Mass Effect: Resurgence (On Hold)
by PrinceMitch
Summary: 40 Years after the Battle for Earth, Commander Shepard is trapped in a dark spiral of loneliness. Although hailed as a hero, he has shunned the rest of the galactic community, choosing to live away from everyone else in an attempt to bring less destruction into people's lives. But a forgotten threat forces Shepard on one last mission, one that may kill him for good.
1. Aftermath

Chapter 1 - Aftermath

Tiny droplets of condensation slid slowly down the chill surface of the half-empty glass. Crystalline blocks of ice floated gently on the surface of the clear, golden liquid within. Whiskey had become a rare commodity, but one that Shepard had began to crave over the past few years. He sat alone, swirling the contents of the glass around and around, in the spacious study that had become a place of comfort for him. Surrounding him were shelves of untouched books and expensive furniture that would never be sat in, except for one lonely leather chair, sat apart from the rest, in the centre of the room. Crafted from the hide of some long extinct animal that once thrived in the wilderness of Earth, wood from the sprawling forests of Surkesh and made by now un-covered hands of Quarians on Rannoch, the chair represented everything the Milky Way now stood for; unity. It was unity that enabled the destruction of the Reapers and it was the driving force behind the rebuilding of galactic civilisation. Not that it was complete, far from it in fact.

It'd taken the main fleets a few days to return to Sol after their jump away from the firing Crucible. But those that remained, those who had been stranded on Earth or hadn't had enough time to leave had the honour of witnessing the fall of the reapers first hand. When the ships did in fact return it had been with great anticipation. What if the Crucible hadn't worked properly? What if they were returning to group of pissed off Reapers? But they hadn't. Instead, they found a world decimated and destroyed but full of hope and the relieved smiles of every man, woman, Turian, Asari, Salarian, Krogan and every other species that had been there. They had won.

It took weeks and months, but eventually a command system was set up, allowing for every species to get what they needed to survive. It was tough those first few years, but without the reapers to fight against, the people united. Food was grown on bloody fields, repairs were made on wrecks of ships that would once have even been turned away by the Quarian Flotilla but now were precious. Eventually the galactic community pulled every loose end together and once again surmounted the impossible. Eventually, thought turned to those back home. Not for the Human race, but for everyone else; what had happened to the rest of the galaxy? Friends and family all left without knowing what had happened. That was when the Resurgence project began.

In the aim of reuniting the scattered people of the galaxy, Resurgence would rebuild the Mass Effect Relays. The surviving scientists that had worked on the Crucible took this work in their stride, using the knowledge passed down from hundreds upon thousands of civilizations to unravel the technology that had guided them through their lives. Initial attempts to recreate Relay technology had simply exploded, but the rest had slowly and steadily begun to improve in power and reliability. As they neared success, they encountered a problem. Having a Relay fire a ship through space was all well and good, until it needed to stop.

It was Tali'Zorah of the Quarians who had eventually came up with the solution. Through her expertise in space craft, she engineered an unmanned probe that could be sent through the fully repaired Sol Relay but then simply stop itself, and proceed to act as a receiver for the initial source. It had taken 23 years, but contact was eventually made with every single home world of the Council Races, who then began construction of their own Relays. Eventually, the galaxy began to repair itself.

The home of the Council, the Citadel, was left above London, with the Conduit being turned into memorial to all those we had lost. It wasn't nearly enough to make up for the losses people had suffered, and it's not like they'd forget their sacrifice any time soon, but the surviving groups had unanimously decided that a memorial was the best thing they could provide to honour them. The lost, the dead… Miranda…

Shepard shook his head violently. He'd done it again, gotten lost in the past. With a small creak of the chair, he knocked back the remainder of his drink. The ice had melted now, leaving the whiskey with an odd, watery taste. He'd always been told not to wait too long before drinking it, or the ice would ruin the flavour. But the he hadn't really been all that interested in the flavour, just the fact that it helped him forget about thing when he drank too much of it.

Now that he'd come to his senses though, Shepard realised what his eyes had been drawn to while his brain had drifted away. The wall-covering fish tank was directly in front of the chair, reminiscent of the tank in the Captain's Quarters back on the Normandy. Nostalgia, combined with the slow gurgling of the water pump and the graceful movements of the fish calmed Shepard, stopping him from going mad.

By all rights, he should be living out the rest of his life happily, living off the royalties of the news vids, documentaries and biographies like Garrus was. But unlike his brother-in-arms, he couldn't escape the past. "The Ruthless Calculus of War" may have been easy to justify for the Turian, but Shepard had always done his best to prevent for need for it in the first place. The faces of everyone who died in the war haunted his dreams, hundred's of them, different every night.

After activating the Crucible, Shepard's body had been buried amongst the rubble from the Citadel explosion. A group of survivors, including Commander Bailey of C-Sec along with the once-ruler of Omega, Aria T'Loak, had fought their way through the invading Reaper forces and headed to the Council Chambers. There they had stayed in the hope they could somehow help with the activation of the Crucible, and hopefully wait for rescue. Instead, they were the one's to rescue Shepard. When they found him most of his synthetic improvements had been disabled by the same wave that had taken out the Reapers, but those that remained had managed to preserve his life. Even 40 years after his rescue, the story of Shepard's victory and rescue is still heavily speculated about on the extranet.

For the next few weeks, Shepard was back on the operating table. Hospitals were brimming with injured soldiers but Shepard had 24 hour care. Most of his motor servos, which allowed his movement, were out cold and his brain was barely just ticking over. Every so often, he'd come around in a daze. Shepard grimaced as he remembered how weak he had been, and at how much pain flowed through him, at that moment. Doctors would swarm around, pumping him full of sedatives so that he wouldn't hurt himself by overworking his brain or trying to move before his body could fully recover.

It was a slow process but, as they say, time heals all wounds. It took a great deal of strength, but eventually Shepard brought himself to his feet and stared out the hospital window. What he saw devastated him. Crumbling buildings, streets full of the homeless and Reaper corpses being swarmed by scavengers and scientists. It was enough to bring any man to tears, but Shepard wasn't just any man.

Over time, Shepard learned of what had happened after his decision on the Crucible. His crew had made it out alive, the Normandy suffering some minor damage but was easily repaired. EDI and the Geth hadn't survived, as the Catalyst had predicted. After all this time, he still felt pangs of guilt at their loss. He had killed them, close friends who had given up so much to fight the Reapers had been obliterated; they would never see the victory they had worked so hard to achieve. But this knowledge was put to the back of his mind as he focused on the task at hand. Even with the galactic community in tatters, news was still an important part of what culture that remained and Commander Shepard's recovery was headline news.

A brave face was needed to face the hundred's of cameras and microphones pointed in Shepard's direction, a reassuring smile and a confident speech detailing hope for the future. But a brave face can only last for so long. In the end, Shepard became withdrawn from the world. It was like his soul had died on the Citadel, and now only an empty husk was left. Shepard chuckled ironically at the phrase that floated through his mind. He had killed so many Husks, and had now become a variant of one himself. Friends and crewmen had tried to rouse him back into life, but they gave up after so long. Only Liara T'Soni continued to visit every so often. She was so relentless; it did seem to help, if only for a short while. Shepard felt a small spark of what was once there deep inside him. A passion that had driven him into the darkest reaches of space for the thrill of adventure and with the goal of saving the galaxy, but a passion that had disappeared with the threat.

Standing up, Shepard checked his omni-tool for the time. It was just past six o'clock on a chill September morning and the Sun's rays had begun to creep over the horizon. It was Wednesday. It had been Monday evening when he'd poured the drink; no wonder the last few dregs hadn't been cold. A deep rooted frustration rose within him.

"Why?" he muttered violently, as his fingers clenched around the glass, "Why have I let myself become so useless?" Knuckles turning white as his grip tightened, he flung the glass across the room. It shattered as it hit the wall only a few metres away, spraying the room with shards of glass. Blood trickled down his cheek, the sticky crimson substance clung to the shaggy black beard that had grown since he last looked in the mirror. He stood there, breathing rapidly and heavily, shaking as anger poured through his veins as though pushing the blood out of his wound even faster. Roughly pulling the shard of glass that had embedded itself just below his eye, Shepard stomped over to the only cabinet in the room not covered in dust. He poured himself another drink. Liara would be here in a few hours, she wouldn't be happy with the mess.


	2. Preparation

Chapter 2 - Preparation

Shepard winced as Liara applied the clear, foul smelling liquid to his face. The wound had been a lot deeper than he had realised, and it had only been when the Asari had appeared some hours later had he admitted the pain he was in.

"You might have died twice, but you're still only Human," she said with a wry grin, "now come on, it doesn't hurt that much." She dabbed again at the wound with the disinfectant-soaked rag, making the stinging sensation even more intense.

Shepard laughed gruffly, his mouth somewhat stale and sticky, his throat croaking from lack of use. "Well, you don't need to be so generous with it, _Doctor_." Liara turned away, returning the bottle back into its original place in the bathroom. The stinging feeling began to subside, and was instead replaced with a dull throbbing. He wouldn't want to admit it, but the solution had helped a lot. Sinking back into his chair, Shepard thought for the hundredth time how lucky he was to have someone like Liara around. Though he hadn't been any more receptive to her than the rest of his old friends initially, her persistence had worn him down. It was a changed friendship, very much one sided, but without her he might've just crumbled away entirely.

Eventually, Liara returned and grabbed his face, moving it in every direction to get a good look at the inch long gash that ran across his face, like a protective mother would to a child. "Yes, that's the best I can do. You're lucky the shard didn't go all the way through, that would have been much ugly and required proper medical attention." Shepard brushed her hands away sullenly, the child-like mirage continuing; despite the fact he was now 72 years old. Human expected lifespan was now in the mid-hundred's, thanks to the medicines and technology that the Citadel Races had shared with them. "The stinging from the medicine will have gone already I expect, and the sharp stabbing you had before I applied the solution won't be as intense, probably a dull throbbing."

Sighing, Shepard stood up and moved over to the huge window opposite the fish tank. It was odd how she'd always seemed to be able to read his mind. Either that or she was simply always right. It was midmorning now, and the Sun shone brightly over the rooftops. Endless rows of housing complex's stretched out before him, and looking down from his penthouse suit in one of the largest buildings in London, it was hard to imagine that what only felt like a few years ago, everything before him had been just a corpse-strewn wreck of what once one of the most powerful cities in the world. Memories of those that had been lost once again flooded through him, but Shepard forced them back. He couldn't afford to slip again, not in front of Liara who had now joined him at the window. On the horizon was the Memorial, an artistic, circular building with the conduit at its center. Shepard had spent a lot of time there after its construction, tracing his fingers along the names carved into every inch of the walls, trying to memorize the fly of every letter. It had been utterly impossible of course but he'd tried anyway.

"It's amazing how quickly you human's have rebuilt the city," Liara thought aloud, "We Asari would have taken twice as long as this just to plan the city out. The more I'm around you, Shepard; the more I think having a shorter lifespan isn't so bad after all." It seemed like an eternity that the pair stood there, stoic and watchful. She'd learned not to force Shepard to talk, it was best to just go with whatever he felt like. Mostly his choice was to do nothing, but Liara hoped one day he would return to the man she once knew, and so she waited for him.

It was afternoon before Shepard unlocked himself from his static pose and returned to his chair. Liara knew what he was going to say before he had opened his mouth.

"You don't have to st-" he began, before Liara quickly interjected.

"Shepard, it's the 40th anniversary of The Victory tomorrow and you need to be there. So tonight, you'll go to sleep and I'll come and collect you in the morning." She too turned from the view of the now orange-tinted rooftops, crouched down next to Shim and took his hand in both of hers. It was warm and strong, like the man she used to know. "Please… try to be presentable. Everyone is dieing to see you; it's been months since you last left the apartment. Kaiden has already said he'll do the Alliance's speech, so you just have to sit there and look pretty." Smiling sadly, she kissed his forehead and made her way to the door. Shepard hated these formal celebrations. If it was up to her, she would've just asked everyone over to Shepard's apartment and they could have had a celebration, Normandy style. Shepard would have found that much easier, and probably would have been a better toast to the dead anyway, instead of all the acts for the cameras. She fully expected to walk in on Shepard in the exact same position as when she left.

"I'm not making any promises."

Foam and greying hair filled the plug hole, swirling around and around as hot, steamy water poured from the tap. With a final tap of his razor, Shepard looked at himself in the mirror for the first time in weeks. Age had crept up in him, created a few wrinkles here and there. He was past his prime, but far from an old man. Middle-aged they called it. Despite this, the Alliance would never have used someone in his shape to take up active duty, he was far too thin and the muscles that once bulged beneath his armour had withered threw years of inactivity. He didn't just felt like a husk, but he was starting to look like one too. Gaunt cheeks had been hidden by the beard he'd unknowingly been growing, but without it he looked weaker than ever. Puffy, red eyes hinted at his lack of sleep. Last night had been hard, but he'd managed to rest properly for a few hours, for the first time in weeks. Liara hadn't said what time she would arrive, but since he'd woken up before the birds had begun to sing, he knew he'd have plenty of time to get ready at his own pace.

Considering the damage the Reapers had done to planet Earth, most people had speculated that most wildlife would have been wiped out. But like the Humans that called this green and blue chunk of rock home, a lot of the wild species managed to recover surprisingly fast. The first sighting of a bird in flight became a symbol of hope for the Alliance for many years, but that was back when Shepard paid attention to the news. He knew the Alliance was still standing, and that was good enough for him. If it wasn't he'd most likely be dead.

Next on the list was to get dressed. For a while Shepard had lived in the same two sets of clothes, Liara forcing him to wash one set, while he changed into the other. Since he'd already showered and shaved, he might as well go the whole way and put on some decent clothing. Slowly Shepard began to flick through his wardrobe, with all the enthusiasm of a student trapped in a boring class on a hot summer's day. Instantly, his eyes were drawn to the old Alliance uniforms that hung as pristine as when they were pressed.

The uniforms brought back more memories from the past; Alliance soldiers who'd rescued him from Mindoir shortly after his parents had been killed. It was a well healed wound. Years of service, training and fighting alongside brothers-in-arms, and the sound of cheers from his fellow soldiers after the Batarian attack on Elysium had been repelled, echoed around his head. With a slow caress of the logo that stood out resolutely on his old casual uniform, Shepard pondered what the symbol meant to him now… And what he meant to it. Was he even considered part of the Alliance Marines anymore? No one had uttered the word "Commander" ever since he secluded himself from the world, but he'd never been officially dismissed either. Whether this was out of respect, negligence or something in between he didn't know, but he decided it was best not to show up in them just in case.

For the next hour Shepard searched through the seemingly endless supply of clothes; he never remembered buying so many. All that presented themselves were too-large shirts and trousers that never went with anything. Eventually, Liara's laughter brought Shepard out of his self-absorbed state of searching. "What, what's funny?" he snapped, surrounded by heaps of rejected clothing.  
"This is the most movement I've seen from you in a long time, Shepard, and look at yourself. You do look fairly ridiculous!" Liara chuckled to herself as she lowered the bags she was carrying to the ground. Shepard flicked his eyesight away from the Asari for just a moment and analysed his situation. A white towel was tied tightly about his waist and clothes that hadn't been worn for years lay in mountainous piles around him. He must have looked so at a loss, the humour was understandable.

"You told me to look my best, and that's what I'm trying to do." Shepard flung the t-shirts he was holding to the ground and stomped over to her, crossed his arms and leant back slightly, "This is your fault. None of this looks right anyway. Everything's the wrong size. You couldn't have told me about this whole thing any sooner"

Still chuckled slightly, Liara bent down and pulled out a neatly folded suit from her bags. "I got you this, it's not overly extravagant, but it's formal and fits. That's what matters. But if I'd known you'd get this excited, you could have come shopping with me." Passing over the suit, Shepard went and slumped onto his bed. Liara then held up two more items, both a bright, striking red. One a simple tie the other a handkerchief emblazoned with the logo of the Alliance; an image of Earth under two slanted bars. "I got these, so we'd match."

"Match?" Shepard asked quizzically, catching the two red pieces of fabric with his free hand as Liara threw them towards him. He didn't like where this was going. What was he meant to be matching?  
Liara laughed again. Shepard wasn't too happy about being the subject of her humour for so long. "Yes, match!" Reaching down, she slipped her hands into the second bag. A crimson, floor-length dress unfolded as she stood back up. "I'm your date, and we have to match." Shepard's heart sank at the thought. A rejection was just about to burst from his mouth without any though, but he caught himself. Asari life spans are long, but would even Liara have waited 40 years to ask him out on a date? No, she knew how he had felt, still feels, about Miranda. It was something else. The warmth in her knowing smile made it click. She was simply giving him a proper reason to stay with her for most of the night. "So go and get dressed, people are waiting for us."

"It's like you're my mother," Shepard muttered as he strode back into the en suite bathroom. But he was grateful for what she was trying to achieve, he hated parties, but one where he was to be glued to Liara wouldn't be as bad. He looked down at the clothing in his hands. The suit wasn't extravagant like Liara had said, just an ordinary piece of formal wear. But it was the quality of the fabric and the stitch that was astonishing. Even the tie was made of the same excellent material, and with the same utmost care. Things like this were still expensive, even after forty years or repairing society. She might be controlling, pushy and occasionally annoying but Liara had always been there and had always wanted the best for him.

Looking at the half empty glass of whiskey he'd been drinking before he shaved he felt disgusted, and not for the first time. What would Miri have said if she saw him like this? Shepard doubted she'd think he was the perfect human specimen she'd fallen in love with anymore. Bile rose in his throat as he thought of her and their first kiss, but he swallowed hard and forced it back down. What had he become? Drinking had never made him feel any better, so why did he do it? Taking a deep breath, he dumped the remainder of the drink in the sink. Shepard once again looked in the mirror at the shadow of a man he'd become. There was some making up to do, for him, for Liara and for the love he'd lost long ago.


	3. Celebrations

Chapter 3 – Celebrations

"3, 2, 1, and… we're live! Welcome viewers to the 40th Anniversary of The Victory. Khalisah al-Jilani here for Westerlund News, hoping to catch some of the biggest names in the current galactic scene and get their views on the Council's continued stance on…"

Crowds swarmed the front of the MemorialBuilding, only the VIPs were given access. Those who had been instrumental in achieving the defeat of the Reapers qualified, amongst other celebrities of both the new and old world. Countless other celebrations would be held throughout the galaxy, but only one would receive so much attention from the people and press. It had been the same every year, and this one was no different, except for the time in a decade Shepard would attend. He hadn't been to the famous party since the 30th anniversary, and only then because he felt it would be polite.

The glow of the Conduit beam glimmered on the windscreen of the transport he and Liara had taken to the event. Just like the suit, it wasn't over the top, just a simple, high-end model. They didn't even have to drive it; it came with its own pilot. Everything seemed to have been engineered perfectly to get as little attention as possible, but then again Liara was still the Shadow Broker. Her network of contacts may have been obliterated, but she relished knowledge and thrived under the pressure that the job of a secret information dealer gave.

"So we're not drawing attention to ourselves, but you, in that dress, you're very… striking?" Shepard had wanted to compliment Liara on her appearance since he'd seen her in the dress, but also didn't want her to get the wrong idea either. She did look amazing, the blue hue of her skin contrasted with the glistening, blood red dress. Though she was still young by Asari standards, only a Maiden, Liara already radiated the aura of self-confidence that only the Matriarchs seemed to posses. She'd come a long way since being the bookworm trapped in a Prothean ruin.

"I'm sure no one will pay any attention to us, don't worry." Liara reassured him, patting his arm slowly, "I've arranged for a distraction of sorts." The transport slowed down as the memorial building grew larger. Huge numbers of people pushed at the security fences, guarded by heavily armoured Alliance soldiers, with the occasional member of another race placed sporadically in between. Earth was still a primarily human world, but with such a rapid decrease of population, it left room for the many alien soldiers that now needed a new home. Soldiers of every race had integrated into society. It might not have been their homeworlds they were helping to rebuild, but it was a good place to start. People had speculated that the connection between the Earth and the Citadel had caused the two to become almost one and the same.

With a dull thud, the transport landed and the door began to glide smoothly open, revealing the guarded, landing area. Frantic clicked of the paparazzi cameras burst through the expanding gap, but it wasn't aimed in Shepard and Liara's direction. On the other side of the plaza, another vehicle had landed. A familiar face stepped out, and on his arm a familiar mask. Liara hadn't been joking; she'd created the perfect distraction. The story of Tali'Zorah and Garrus Vakarian, the Quarian and the Turian, true love blossoming in the midst of all this death had become insanely popular with the everyday person. It was a sign of hope for the survivors, that good things can still happen even after all the loss. If it wasn't for Shepard actually being the one to activate the Crucible, he was sure they'd have remained news worthy for decades. Now they were simply galactic sweethearts. Shepard was happy for the two of them, despite the fact that seeing them together reminded him of what he would never have again.

Taking his hand, Liara yanked him from the transport and briskly pulled him up the stairs that lead into the building. "That was close; if you'd kept daydreaming someone would've noticed you were here." She sounded exasperated, as though it was obvious what Shepard had done wrong. In truth, he couldn't see it.

"I don't think anyone would have been interested in us anyway. Look at them!" Now at the top of the stairs, Liara turned to look down upon their former squad mates. Arm in arm, they made their way around the perimeter of the square, shaking hands, signing autographs in omni-tools and generally being the stars they were. The attention of the entire audience was theirs to relish in.

With a sigh, Liara replied, "They're very popular, yes. But they're nothing compared to your, Shepard. You're a hero, an idol, when a teacher asks a child what they want to be when they grow up, they reply with your name. You might be shying away from all of this," with a sweep of her arm, Liara indicated the crowds now cheering and chanting as the two lovers continued their route, "but the public want you more than anyone, you just don't know it. Let's get inside, before people notice you're here, at least whoever is in there will know you already." With a final glance at the throng below, Shepard knew he'd made the right choice when he avoided the life of popularity, cameras and constant scrutiny that the two lovers had adopted. Falling asleep was a challenge for him now; dealing with this sort of thing was out of his league.

Luckily, Shepard's hesitance didn't reveal his presence to the crowd outside, but once through the large glass doors at the peak of the staircase, relative safety was achieved. The pair looked at one another for a moment before both sighed and cracked a smile. They'd taken this so very seriously, as though it had been a life or death mission. "You would have thought fighting extinct races, armies of synthetics, mercenaries and a billion year old galactic invasion force would have toughened you up a bit." A gravely chuckle sounded from down the hall.

A hulking being advanced slowly towards them, his rugged, scarred face and dirty, war torn armour contrasting with the pristine cleanliness of the hallway he walked through. Still laughing, the Krogan offered his right hand. Shepard took it with his; the smile on both the warrior's faces growing as their palms met.

"Urdnot Grunt, it's been a while," Shepard exclaimed, by way of greeting. Though he was much weaker than the Krogan they were of similar height. He glanced to the other side of the body, where only a stump remained of his left arm. During the fight on Earth, he'd gotten into a brawl with a Brute. Although Grunt had come out on top, his left arm had been ripped clean off. Grunt claimed he'd only noticed this when he went to aim down the sights of his shotgun and the other hand hadn't come up to support the weapon.

"I watched you come up the stairs; trying to avoid the cameras? What are you, a pyjak? You should be lapping it up, you're a champion." Grunt lead them down the hall, and into the main central hall. The Conduit Beam hummed slightly at its centre, but had been cordoned off. The usually open air venue was covered by large sheets of fabric that came to a point near the center, leaving a hole just large enough for the vibrating beam of light to pass through.

"So I've been told," Shepard replied, hating being told what he already knew, by the Krogan that he'd brought up, "I didn't know you came to these events. I thought you were busy running your arena?" Losing the arm hadn't kept Grunt down for long; he'd gone through life without a purpose before, so he found a new one. "Grunt's Arena" had become extremely popular over the years. A televised brawling competition presented by Urdnot Grunt himself, drew fighters of every race together to pit themselves against one another and see who was strongest. Invariably the shows winners were mostly Krogan, but the occasional Batarian, Turian or Human would score a lucky hit and win the prize. Occasionally a cocky winner would challenge Grunt himself, questioning his right to judge the fights and have his name above the door. Ensuing fights wouldn't last long; even with one arm, Grunt could throw a fully grown Human 20 feet threw the air.

With another one of his deep chuckles, Grunt replied, "I have Wrex's runt looking after things while I'm here. She's of strong stock, that Mordin." It pleased him to no end that Bakara had forced Wrex into an oath that they would name their first born after Mordin Solus, the Salarian who had cured the Genophage, who had then turned out to be female. "I'm thinking of taking her on as permanent staff, she's a great fighter. Did you see the last final? She just stomped out there and punched that Batarian right in the face. She was celebrating her victory before his head hit the floor." The trio had reached the buffet now, Grunt leading the way while Shepard and Liara followed closely behind. Picking up an entire platter of hor d'oeuvres, the Krogan slid them one by one into his gaping jaw. "I love the food here, much better than that sterilised space-grown stuff, I wouldn't miss this for anything," he belched, the deep gurgling echoing around the mostly empty room.

For a while, the three of them stood and watched as others entered the room. Liara had arranged so that they were early enough to simple blend into the crowds but also so that the cameras could pick up Shepard had actually attended the event before the pair left early. Grunt had shown up to get the pick of the food. Waiters eyed him warily, but when he barked orders for more food to be brought they did his bidding without complaint.

Celebrities and soldiers began to trickle through the main doors and take up places around the room. Liara and Grunt led the conversation, keeping it light and cheerful, or as light and cheerful as Grunt could get, but nonetheless it kept Shepard distracted. After a while, his attention began to wander. Analysing the groups that began to form, he realised there were a lot of old units reuniting for the first time since last anniversary. After pointing this out, Liara promised she'd find as many of their friends as possible. Eventually, Tali and Garrus walked in, having said goodbye to their adoring fans after almost an hour.

"I'll go and get them, we'll start the Normandy reunion… not that there are many of us left." Liara lamented, her voice dropping from cheerful to mournful as she realised how depressing she sounded. She gave Shepard a comforting squeeze in the arm before setting off to push her way through the growing crowds.

Shepard felt odd without her by his side. It had been months since he'd left home, so being trapped with a group of people, without the one rock in his life started off a panic. Suddenly a hand clamped down on his shoulder, it was Grunt. Despite his brutish nature, and love for hitting things with other things, he did seem to care for man who he'd fought against the Collectors with. "So, are you and the Asari mating now?" The bluntness of his question took Shepard by surprise, so much so that a quick bark of a laugh escaped his lips.

"No, Grunt. We're not mating, we're just close friends."

"You sure? Because I could go for that, I know the Asari are squishy, but they have something about them."

As the conversation turned into some of the manliest banter that Shepard had ever partaken in, Liara returned with Turian and Quarian in tow.

"Wow, Shepard! It's so good to see you!" Tali leapt forward, releasing Garrus' and flinging her arms around Shepard's neck. Garrus didn't look too happy about this. He had a theory that Tali had only settled for him after Shepard hadn't taken notice of her. Despite that, he quickly re-composed himself and gave Shepard a hearty handshake after Tali had finally let go.

"Anyone would think we were in a Council ad, supporting unity amongst the races. I forgot how varied our crew was," Garrus remarked in his usual deep, dulcet tone. He was right; it wasn't often that so many different races could be found in one conversation, in one circle of friends. An automated camera flew over head, "You know, I think we might just be," he sighed as the lens flashed repeatedly.

"So Shepard," Tali said, casually, "what have you been doing recently?" Her intention was obvious, to spark conversation. But despite the bubbly tone to her voice, all that came in reply was an awkward silence. Shepard hadn't done anything recently, apart from wallow in his own memories. Luckily, the awkwardness lasted only a moment before a familiar voice filled the air and the rest of the room was silenced too.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen. Planet Earth graciously welcomes you to the 40th Anniversary of The Victory." Polite clapping followed the announcement as the lights dimmed. Despite it being midday, and the Sun being high in the sky, the room was enveloped in an inky blackness.

Another voice joined the first, "Since the entire population can't play host today, it looks like we'll have to do." Spotlights burst into life, shining on the main stage, illuminating the faces of two men decked out in their official Alliance regalia.

"Kaidan and James have become very popular," Liara shouted over the applause which rivalled the noise Garrus and Tali had generated outside. It was pretty obvious why. As their introduction to the event continued, the crowd was with them all the way. Tears were shed at Kaidan's stories and laughs were had at James's jokes. The pair could not have been more different, but it gave them a sort of odd chemistry that allowed them to bounce off one another extremely well.

"… I'd like to give thanks to everyone here, for showing up and supporting us," continued James, "and although you are all very special to us, especially you," he winked at a model near the front, "we have one very special guest. Without him, none of us would be alive today. So raise you glasses and give a toast to the one, the only… Commander Shepard." Spotlights blasted down upon the back of the crowd, the opposite side of the room to the stage. A huge cheer, larger than any that had come before it that day, erupted as Shepard became the centre of attention.


	4. Nightmares

Chapter 4 - Nightmares

Liara's head fell into her hands, Garrus and Tali simply froze, unsure of how to support their friend while Grunt merely laughed. "That kid has about as much tact as I do and we both know I don't have any."

Cheering continued as Shepard's feet took him to the staircase to one side of the cage. He walked, but he wasn't really paying attention. Sweat beaded on his brow, his clenched fists forced nails through lairs of skin. Still he walked. As he grew closer, the panic became more intense, but some instinct had pushed Liara back when she had ran to his aid. He'd faced more terrifying things than this, but then again, he was a different man back then.

With a dull thud his foot landed on first step of the staircase. These people, they don't understand how he had failed them. Their cheers became nothing but a dull ringing in his ears. He defeated the Reapers, but it cost so much. He'd never told anyone what had happened on the Citadel. Not even Liara knew.  
"The paths are open, but you have to choose."

Those words haunted him to this day. One man should not have been burdened with such. Three options were presented to him, all with many different possible results. With a blurred mind he had tried to decide. How was he even meant to trust this… being, this AI, the one claiming to be the Catalyst they'd searched so hard to find? It claimed to control the Reapers, to guide them through the harvest. It was built to protect us, but its view had become warped. Shepard was vaguely aware his foot had reached the next step.

Could I have taken its place, and lead the people of the galaxy into a better future? Shepard would forever ask himself that question. Maybe he could have saved the Geth and Edi after all. But The Illusive Man had wanted this Control, the option felt tainted. He, his servants and his experiments, all had lead to Miri's death. Shepard could not fold to the dead man's ideals. He'd stared at the form of the child that stood before him. There was no guarantee his new self would not later become corrupted too. It was not a decision he could make. But he had to.

Another step up, the stage grew closer. Time had slowed to a crawl as the thoughts raced through his head at lightning fast speed. He guessed he'd pondered them so many times that they'd become so used to traversing his mind it now only took seconds to make it through and destabilize him.

Synthesis had been another option, to give full understanding of Organic life emotions to Synthetic beings, while giving the strength and adaptability of a Synthetic construct to Organics. The Catalyst had favoured it heavily, using Shepard's own modifications as evidence at how great the two species could become when brought together. Shepard had come closer to stopping the Reapers than any living soul in their seemingly infinite history. Another foot fell onto another step, but he was now too numb to even believe it was his own. All that gave it away was the dull jolt that rocked his head.

This too had not been an option. How could he live with himself to alter the DNA of everything in the Galaxy? From the fish in the tank on the Normandy to those heroes who had fought along side him. What would Anderson or Hackett have said to this?

"Dead Reapers is how we win this."

"I'm… proud of you."

"I love you… Finish this. You promise me."

His decision had been made. Reapers had terrorized every single living creature for countless generations. Sovereign had said that his cycle could not be broken. He wasn't as arrogant when his remains lay scattered amongst the Presidium. Harbinger had claimed to be salvation through destruction, but the galaxy had to save itself from the tyranny that loomed over it. The Catalyst needed help in fulfilling its perfect purpose. It could go to hell.

Bang.

Bang.

"Bang."

"Shepard!" The crowd screamed as their hero tumbled to the ground. The fall had been broadcast galaxy-wide, every single viewer. Having reached the top step, Shepard had reached out with his right hand and uttered a single word before crashing to the ground. James and Kaidan leapt to his side, lifting him from the ground with one arm upon each of his shoulders. Deathly silence had fallen upon the crowd.

"Sorry to have let you down," Shepard managed, before unconsciousness overcame him.

Shepard awoke suddenly. Sitting bolt upright, dizziness immediately overwhelmed him causing his head to slam back down on the pillow, with a dull thump. He was in bed; that much he knew. As the purple, yellow and green stars vanished from his vision, he made out Liara's form next to him in the darkness. It must have been the middle of the night. Her breathing was slow and steady, she too was asleep. Her withdrawal from the world had been voluntary however. She lay on top of the covers, still clad in the red dress that accentuated her features so well. If Shepard was any other man, he'd be over the moon to wake up, dizzy, next to a beautiful Asari, unable to remember getting to bed.

Without disturbing her, and moving slow enough to not bring another round of dizziness, Shepard freed himself from the bed sheets. Nightmares must have haunted him last night, he knew, as the sheets were tangled around him as thought caught up in his thrashing. Liara would have been so worried about him. Moving across the room, bare feet padding silently over the wooden floorboards, Shepard stopped outside the drinks cabinet. It was events like this that would spark his months of seclusion, and every time they came around they got worse, longer and the self loathing grew deeper. Miranda would not have loved the man he'd become, he told himself again. He might have fulfilled his final promise to her, but he'd let her down in so many other ways. Thoughts like that would usually eat away at him for days as he wrestling with them, fumbling around in his mind as the days flew past without notice. Before he knew it, his palm lay on the handle, his fingers about to clasp around it and yank the door open. Shepard recoiled, shaking his head violently. He tumbled backwards onto the floor. His body drew itself into a shuddering, weeping wreck as Shepard shut himself off once more to the outside world.

It was early morning when Liara's eyes fluttered open. Sitting up, she frowned at her dress which was now covered in wrinkles and creases. "Those will take forever to get out," she whispered. There is something about this time of day that yearns for quiet, as though one loud sound could wake the entire world, Liara mused to herself.

Wiping her eyes to rid herself of the last few dregs of tiredness, she scanned the room. The body on the floor caused Liara to leap to her feet, almost toppling as her feet caught on the hem of her floor length dress. She cursed as she almost joined Shepard on the ground. "Shepard?" she hissed, wanting his attention but not to wake him up if he was still asleep, "Shepard, are you awake?" The muffled response confirmed that he was, so Liara moved carefully closer.  
A small trickle of blood had pooled around Shepard's arm, but it was hard to detect the true size of the damage. Confusion rolled through her mind, but Liara forced herself to simply get on with the task of looking after he friend. Why was he on the floor? Where did the blood come from? Was he attacked, or did he just fall?  
"What happened?" she said, a little louder this time. The worry was evident in her voice, "where did the blood come from? Shepard, are you okay?"  
Now uncurled from his foetal position, he wiped the blood from his mouth and looked down at his arms. Deep teeth marks covered his forearms, blood oozing from each of the holes. "I didn't want to wake you," came the feeble response. Shepard looked up into Liara's shadowed face. It was not yet light enough outside to illuminate the entire room, leaving some areas in a deep shadow.

In one swift movement, Liara came closer. A huge stinging sensation on his left check sent Shepard backwards. Blood filled his mouth once again as he realised he'd it his tongue. Liara stood over him, hands balled into shaking fists. The sun slowly rose just high enough to shine onto Shepard's face, a red hand mark clearly visible now.

"Do you think I can take much more of this?" Liara's voice was filled with barely contained fury, disappointed and sadness. "You mean everything to me Shepard. My heart broke when I lost you the first time to the Collectors. When you went onto the Citadel alone it broke again." The words were uttered in such controlled way she would have sounded like a VI to anyone else. But Shepard knew Liara well enough to know the truth; her heart was breaking for the third time. "I'm losing you again," she continued, more emotion flooding into her; voiced cracking occasionally and on the brink of tears. But emotions would not have their way with her today, "I can't… I can't… I can't lose you again. But every time I try to help you, you just… Everything I do just seems so pointless. Why won't you let me in? Why won't you let me help you?!" With the last question, Liara's voice rose into the screech of a banshee. Choking sobs and salty tears escaped from her and she stormed from the room. Shepard sat there, stunned. Not even the slamming of his front door and the echoes of Liara's quietening sobs as she ran down the hallway roused him  
It wasn't until the sunlight began to blind him that Shepard began to move. With a quick glance at his messy sheets, he knew now he would be facing the endless nightmares alone.


	5. Calling

**Chapter 5 - Spectres**

Days drifted into one another, an endless myriad of varying shades of light and darkness. But still, Shepard sat. He would slip in and out of consciousness, not caring which state he existed in, only that he was alive. Occasionally he would move, walk to the bathroom to quench his thirst, but eating was too much. He'd tried, but food would not rest easy in his stomach and soon Shepard would be leaning over the toilet, vomiting violently like a teenager who couldn't handle their alcohol.

Eventually, he just gave up, having only tried to keep himself healthy so that when Liara next visited she would have been happier with his condition. It had never crossed his mind that she wouldn't come back at all. She hadn't, and now for all Shepard knew, it could have been years since she had stormed out that miserable night. Her message had been clear; pull yourself together but she'd had enough of pulling him. Maybe one day she would come back, and if she walked in to a drunk, injured or even dead Shepard, she wouldn't be too happy.

The alcohol cabinet had remained untouched, which was a step in the right direction, but other than that Shepard had remained the same as always, albeit much lonelier. He'd depended so much on her company, much more than he realised. For once, he decided, he would try and give her what she had wanted.

Eventually, someone did arrive at Shepard's front door, but it was not the person he'd been waiting for. He didn't own a way of communicating with the outside world, not even an omni-tool for receiving text-based messages. He'd given up using them when he'd retired from service, they reminded him too much of the Victory Parades.

Even just thinking of the orange glow of an omni-tool made him sick to his stomach. After his recovery, Shepard had spent a lot of time amongst the people, greeting everyone and generally being a beacon of hope in the troubling times ahead of them. It was an experience he began to loathe. How could he pretend to celebrate, as though nothing had happened, as though nothing had been lost? But pretend he did, while guilt gnawed away inside him.

One of the most famous pictures from that campaign had been of Shepard, omni-tool glowing on his left hand and a biotic blast readied in the other. It had been used for months as a symbol of what can be achieved by uniting and using everyone's strengths to compliment other's weaknesses. The strength of s soldier, the willpower of a biotic and the wits of an engineer had been instilled in one man, the man who had spearheaded the fight against a galactic invasion.

Rapid rapping brought Shepard out of his thoughts again. He'd forgotten about the person at the door. He knew it wasn't Liara, she had the passcode to unlock it and no one else had bothered seeing him in a long time. Joints creaked as Shepard stood up to answer the door. The knocks became heavier and more frequent. Knock knock knock, knock knock knock. Shepard clutched his head as the noise echoed around the apartment. A bubble devoid of noise had been his home for a while now, so even something as simple as knocking shook his world.

"Yes?" Shepard shouted as he neared the door. As it got closer, the idea of opening it became daunting. The last time he left the house had gone so well afterall.

"Commander Shepard, please open the door. I have a message to deliver," came the muffled reply. The penthouse had been sound proofed to keep out construction noise from outside, meaning it was difficult to talk through the door. With a deep breath, Shepard waved his hand above the scanner in the centre of the door. It began to part from the middle, sliding into the walls. The door had been made to look like the old fashioned ones of old, where they would swing on hinges to open and close. However, it was merely a facade, but a high quality one at that. Before him appeared two soldiers, one human the other salarian, clad in full body armour, rifles in hand. Shepard's hand instinctively flew to his hip, where his pistol used to rest, but it found nothing but air. However, the soldiers did not attack, simply raised their guns in response.

"Sorry, I'm just... I wasn't expecting armed visitors," Shepard laughed awkwardly, trying to ease the tension. He was far too paranoid. "What's the message?"

"The Council requests your presence... Commander," the Salarian's voice was thick with contempt. Shepard looked down at his scruffy clothes. The stench of sweat hung in the air aound him. "You are still a Spectre, and like it or not you must respond to what is required of you. We will give you an hour to ready yourself and we will return with transportation. Be warned, this is a matter of galactic security. But then again, you're used to dealing with that... or maybe not." The final sentence was spat with such disrespect that it took Shepard aback. Is that how people viewed him now, as a waste of space? With a glare, the Salarian turned and made his way towards the elevator, his glistening black armour out of place amongst the regal trappings of the penthouse hallway.

"I'm really sorry, Commander," the human apologized. Platinum blonde hair sat atop his pale-skinned face, with blue eyes that seemed oddly familiar. "Jahest can be a little harsh. My father spoke highly of you before he passed. I wasn't alive during the war, but I wouldn't be alive now if it wasn't for you." He gave a quick salute, before jogging after the Salarian.

Shepard stood transfixed as the young man left, but was quickly shaken free when he realised just what the pair had told him. "Duty" was not a word that Shepard used much anymore, but his old life and the security he felt, despite the enormous struggles he'd faced, had been reassuring. He had a place in the universe and knew what his life was about. Now he didn't have that; he was barely living.

Stepping back into his apartment, Shepard closed the door and leant his head against it with a small thud. "Let's take this one step at a time," he murmured to himself, eyes closed as he focused intently on his task, "at least there aren't any crowds this time."

Showered, fed and changed, Shepard left his home later that afternoon wearing a simple set of clothes, just a dark grey hoody, which was pulled low over his eyes, and a pair of blue jeans. It wasn't exactly fashionable and it never really had been, but it was comfortable and discreet.

Walking down the stairs had Shepard nervous already. With clenched teeth he stepped out onto the street and began to walk steadily. he couldn't afford to rush, but he also could withdraw too much from the world or people will begin to notice him for simply being too different.

His flat wasn't that far away from the nearest transport station, so Shepard made the journey in under twenty minutes. As he walked into the air-conditioned entrance, the cold air blew into his face. Only then did he realise how much he'd been sweating in his nervous, focused state. Quickly, he ordered transport to the Citadel Council Chambers, sat down and breathed slowly in an attempt to calm himself. Shepard had no reason to be afraid, no-one so far had noticed him and the only way they would is if he made too much of a scene. Closing his eyes once again, Shepard maintaned his deep, slow breathing pattern until a calming wave crossed Shepard's mind, luring him into an almost sleep-like trance. Only when his mind was free, however, did he think about why the Council were even calling him and Shepard was alert and nauseated once more.


	6. Council

Chapter 6 - Council

"You have arrived at your destination: Council Chambers," came the familiar female voice from the speaker in the corner of the elevator. Avina had been repaired and her purple, Asari form was now all over the Citadel.

Shepard stepped through the doors as they parted, no longer bothering to hide his face. The people here were expecting him anyway. The journey through the Citadel had been much the same as his walk to the transit station on Earth, and just as unenjoyable.

Suddenly, Shepard felt far too under dressed, but with the amount of weight on his mind one more didn't really make much difference. Walking through the new Council Chamber brought back memories, both good and bad, all causing small pangs of guilt as he knew the man he was today didn't even deserve to be here. The room itself had changed a lot in appearance, but it still held the same tone as it had in the old days. Only powerful people belong here. Shepard was surprised his fingerprints were still in the database that allowed him access to the council elevator since he'd been out of action for so long.

Before the main Council platform stood numerous armed guards, dressed much like the ones who had come to Shepard's apartment earlier. One ushered him forward as the Council came into view. It almost took his breath away. Before him stood tens of people, one of every race. Batarian, Krogan, Volus, Human, Asari and every other race that had fought the Reapers now had power over how the new galaxy was formed. To the side was an empty platform, where instead of an actual person, stood a solid stone statue of a Geth. Even they were being honoured.

"Commander Shepard," came the sharp, clear tone of the Asari councillor. Although not stern or disapproving, she had authority in her voice which made it seem as though those two qualities could easily be implemented into her speech. "We called you here today for a reason. We have a mission for you."

Holding back a bitter bark of laughter, Shepard spoke out in the loudest voice he had doen in months. "For me? Are you insane? Get someone else to do it..." This time it was his voice Shepard now analysed. It too had been clear, sharp and controlled. And there was authority there too. If he truly wanted nothing more to do with this mission, he'd have walked away, but instead his feet seemed rooted in place.

"It is a job only you can do, Commander," came the semi-robotic wheeze of the Volus, "you have been asked for!"

"I told you," Shepard sighed, "I don't care if you ask me, I wo-"

"Not by us," came a voice from the other side of the hall. Shepard swung his head aroun to locate the raspy speaker, this time a Drell.

"Well then, who's asking for me? Why am I here, just get to the point!" The frustration is his voice was obvious, and the council knew it. Instead of sending him away like they would anyone else, they did nothing. Shepard really was needed.

"An... old friend of yours has requested you meet her," the Asari said, her voice calming and smooth. "We understand your pain Shepard, but the galaxy needs you once more."

"Yes, Shepard," came another Asari voice, this one much more familiar, "they do." He turned, his heart leaping in a confusion of feelings at the sound of Liara's voice. She walked purposefully down the same path that Shepard had followed. Her form, however, seemed much more at home here. With a quick nod, she acknowledged the many races above her. "Thank you for informing me that Shepard had arrived Councillors." They nodded in turn. Finally she turned to him. her gaze was cold and uncaring.

"Liara?"

"My presence here has nothing to do with us, Shepard. I'm done. But like they said, the galaxy needs you and I can explain it later." Her voice was empty; a nothingess that hurt Shepard greatly. He'd pained her so much, to the point where he'd killed any connection between them

"Liara, I'm sor-" he began, as she turned to walk away.

"No!" she snapped in a low, deep voice. "Don't embarrass yourself any more than you have done already." Contining on her way, Shepard could do nothing but follow in her wake. It was hard to take in. He was, apparently, setting off on a mission for no other reason than he wanted to apologise to someone who he'd hurt, but who also now wanted nothing to do with him. All that thinking made his brain hurt.

The silence continued in the elevator, only broken by Avina who had become so familiar over the years that it didn't really seem to be anything other than background noise, not real speech. They boarded a small shuttle back to Earth. Liara wouldn't even look at him for the entire journey, and his heart ached because of it. He'd been doing so well in the days leading up to the party, but it'd gone too fast for him and he'd ended up falling flat on his face. Literally. Maybe the spark of hope that he'd given her had been too much to lose again. Showering regularly, shaving, getting dressed and being excited about it. He almost seemed like a normal person again, at least while Liara was around. Losing that would have broken anyone, like having a loved one in a coma, for them to start to move again then sink back into their prisons even deeper. But this prison was of Shepard's own making, and she had reason to be angry.

The finally arrived at their destination, a museum. Of all the places to go, Shepard hadn't even considered thinking about this one. Most of Earth's histororical libraries and museums had been destroyed by the Reapers, so what was housed here, Shepard wondered?

Plastered along the walls of the reception were huge pictures and posters of ships, of all makes, models and sizes. Due to the rebuilding effort, every ship was now co-built by the races, not just built by each race like in the days before the way. The idea of a co-developed Turian-Human ship had been called crazy, but look what that ship had accomplished. Shepard smiled ruefully as he examined the pictures as Liara spoke to the receptionist. Tracing his fingers along the designs, looking at their names... it all brought back memories of the Normandy and it's crew.

Through a maze of corridors they went, still in silence. But Shepard, while still troubled, had at least began to appreciate being in Liara's company again, despite the circumstances. He'd missed her so much, and her thought about her a lot. Every time he did, it just made him miss her more. Her eyes, her smile, her perfume...

"Here we are, Shepard," she said abruptly, almost causing him to jump in alarm. He'd tried to stay as focussed as possible to not lose himself in worries and doubt, but the sign "Testing Facility" made him uncomfortable. People might be in there.

With a deep breath, and a wish he'd applied more deoderant this morning, he replied. "Let's go, show me my mission." Liara opened the doors, and stepped through as they slid apart. The sight before Shepard as he followed really did take his breath away this time. She was just as beautiful as he remembered. All her curves in just the right places, and her make up still pristine.

"If I carry on like this, Joker might get jealous," Shepard muttered to himself, his eyes wide in awe as he stared up at the ship he'd been thinking about only minutes before. The Normandy, anchored just above the ground, stood waiting for him. Below her stood a crew of about 10 technicians and double the number of soldiers, all clothed in the same outfit as the ones that had come to give him the message and the ones guarding the Council. Finally, it clicked.

"They're all Spectres?" he asked, slightly confused at how many there were. "Why are there so many now?"

"The Spectres have evolved, they're now more of a cohesive unit than simply lone wolves." Liara explained, "You could have been part of them, of this, of everything." She turned away quickly and began to examine part of a machine that Shepard doubted she had any knowledge of. He knew Liara, and she wouldn't be able to keep a cold shoulder for very long while they were around each other, but it was when they parted would she find it much easier.

"Am I part of this then? Whatever's happening here anyway?" Shepard asked, trying to keep the conversation going. Liara turned back to him, her face empty of emotion once more and led him towards the Normandy. Excitement grew within him as he neared his old vessel, but he tried to surpress it. Walking around with a big, childish grin on his face wouldn't do much to quell the rumours he was slightly insane. In the end, he let the smile escape. It was nice to know he could still feel happiness, even for a little while.


	7. Normandy

Chapter 7 - Normandy

"Right everyone," Liara shouted, "we've all been waiting a while for this to happen, but Shepard is here now so we can finally get the Normandy flying." A series of nods, salutes and "Yes, ma'ams!" came from the crowd as they all boarded the Normandy through the rear ramp. Shepard was confused.

"You still haven't told me what I'm doing here, Liara."

"Right, yes." Liara appeared slightly flustered, as though her concentration on ignoring Shepard had gotten in the way of the reason they were actually there. "The Normandy has been stationed in this museum for a long time now. People flock to see it, the flagship of the Alliance, the first true ship to show the strength of a united galaxy and the ship that lead that united galaxy into a war that almost obliterated it. A couple of months ago, we lost contact with a team that went through the Sol relay. No big surprise, it's happened before. This technology is still alien to us, we just had to guess and hoped it worked. But then it came back, empty, with extensive damage to most systems. The logs reported of creatures attacking them, creatures they'd never seen before. We were intrigued. We can plot that previous ship's course and see if there is anyone still there, but the Normandy has the highest level of stealth technology in the galaxy and we need it. When I heard about the mission, I immediately demanded to be on board. You know me, I can never resist a good mission." She laughed slightly at the last comment. During her speech, she'd slipped back into her old way of talking to Shepard. He wasn't eager to point it out.

"So, what's the issue?"

"When we were checking her over, I...well I was messing around in the... I kind of..." She placed her hand to her forehead and rubbed her brow in frustration, "It might be easier to show you rather than explain it." Catching herself being nice, Liara added, "For my sake."

And so the pair slipped back into the ship that was once there home. Shepard was too distracted to notice the tension between them now, his mind was instead filled with joy and a sense of purpose. Guilt should have ended long ago, but it hadn't. He'd always felt no one would understand what he'd gone through, the choices he'd had to make and the people who'd lost their lives. But seeing the Normandy, being inside her once again, brought back sparks and flashes of his former life. He had accomplished so much here. But during those journeys, missions and life and death situations, he'd never been alone. Maybe people would have understood if he'd opened himself up a little more. With a shake of his head, Shepard neared the top of the ramp.

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Shepard could just tell everything was the same as before. No one had used the ship since it he had; it was deemed too power hungry for the fledging energy supplies of the new galaxy. Looking around the cargo bay where Steve and James would often have verbal sparring matches, Shepard thought about how many times he'd left this place thinking it could be the last time he'd see it. It was comforting to know he had returned. People milled around, sorting boxes, shouting orders to each other, readying the Normandy for whatever mission it would take next. But they drifted slowly into the background as Shepard lost himself in happiness.

The elevator slid open, just as it always had. Even the floor menu was the same. The Captain's Quarters on the top floor, where the nightmares had first plagued him, but also where the peace and quiet he needed had been found. No one ever really knew how long he'd spent up there just thinking about things. What had he just done? Was it the right, or wrong, thing to do? Where would he be going next? He was always analysing himself and looking at what could be ahead, but never thinking too far. He might not have lived long enough to get there anyway, so why make plans after your next mission? Maybe another reason why he'd locked himself away for so long. A life with no goal was no life at all.

As the elevator slowly rose, Shepard continued to think. The second deck was the CIC; the main hub of the Normandy. It's where Joker and EDI had spent most of their time, and seeing them grow alongside each other had been heart warming. Having never met a true AI, Shepard never considered that a relationship could form between one and an organic being. But it had, in so many ways. Obviously, Joker and EDI had formed some sort of "love," that he couldn't quite explain, but it made both of them happy, so who was he to judge? Joker had been pretty smitten with EDI, even before she got her mobile platform. Then he'd become very smitten indeed. Even Shepard had grown attached to EDI. Not only was she superb at defending and operating the ship, she was a pleasure to be around. And he'd killed her.

Pushing that thought aside, Shepard noted the crew deck was their selected destination. Pretty much all of his friends had stayed here at some point. He wondered about them sometimes. What were they doing now the war was finished? He only caught snippets of their lives, but that too was his fault. Wishing them the best, was the best Shepard could do. The doors opened, and Liara took the lead once more. Her path took them both through the medical bay, which was where Shepard had first learned about the Reapers. Not this exact one, of course, but in this room on the old ship. Those had been different kinds of nightmares than the ones he suffered now, brought on by the Prothean beacon. Shepard had occasionally wondered if it had been the presence of those horrific, alien memories that had weakened his mind over the years. He was fine with the fighting and the killing before then. It was just a job to him. But after... everything seemed to change.

Shepard ran his hands along the bed sheets as he walked past, the soft fabric feeling almost fragile against his hard, war-torn palms. It was here where Eve, the last survivor of a brutal experiment to cure the genophage had sat. She was willing to give up her own life if it meant having the slimmest chance to save her people. He would never understand any none-Krogan being attracted to one, but for a few moments Shepard couldn't help but think that she was beautiful. Not because of her appearance, or her achievements or anything else besides her inner strength. What he would give to have just a sliver of that now.

Liara fiddled with her Omni-tool at the entrance to the AI core. It seemed to have a deeply complex password on it now, as Liara's hands flew across both the door's console and the device on her wrist. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught Shepard's quizzical look. "What's in there that's so important? We both know what happened to her, there's nothing left."

Turning back to her work, Liara replied, "You'll see in a minute." Shame was evident in his voice, and Shepard knew it. He smirked as he recognised someone trying to hide an emotion, he'd done enough of it himself. Liara's mental block couldn't allow something like sympathy through.

Eventually, the light on the door turned green and slid open. Lining the walls were hundreds of technological devices that was once the brain of one of Shepards most trusted friends. At one time they would all be covered in flashing and blinking lights, whirring noises would emanate from them as EDI made calculations and decisions in a fraction of the time it would take a human to even realise there was a problem to think about. But other than the lifelessness of the room, nothing stood out as being important.

Then he saw it. One, singular blinking light in the corner of the room. "I was in here, just checking to see if there was anything. I don't even know what I did, but then this light turned on." Liara walked over to it and crouched down. "At first I paid no attention to it, there are hundreds of lights on this ship. But then I realised, this is EDI. She's meant to be dead!"

"It's been a while, I don't think my engineering skills are up to scratch to fix anything like this," Shepard replied, crouching next to her, the tiny, circular light blinking on and off with no discernible pattern.

"No, that's not it," Liara shook her head, "nothing happened until we tried to launch the ship and then, well..."

"Good afternoon, Commander Shepard. Now you're aboard, please log your destination in the CIC."

The light blinked more rapidly as the metallic, female voice chimed throughout the AI core and the rest of the ship.

"EDI..." Liara continued, her voice only a whisper now, "she's alive."


	8. EDI

**Chapter 8 - EDI**

Stunned, Shepard's only response was to open his mouth and let out a small, "duuuh," noise. That couldn't be possible, the Catalyst said she would die, he thought.

"Yes, exactly," Liara said, her voice still quiet as though not to disturb EDI again, "that's what I thought. But there it was. She asked for a destination, so I ran to the cockpit and ordered our pilot to set the course; I couldn't miss this opportunity to fly the ship if this was the only way it could work. But when I did she said we couldn't leave yet. After a few hours of questioning, she eventually said it was because her "Commander" wasn't aboard. It seems she has been reset, and by that I mean totally. She doesn't remember anything at all and her processes are very slow. We've tried repairing her other systems, but it's just this one box keeping her alive. That's why we need you Shepard. Now you're here, you can tell her where to go and leave. Or even better, tell her I'm in charge and I'll do it."

Still in a state of shock, Shepard stood up and leant against the wall of computer equipment. A small laugh escaped him as tears welled up in his eyes. Maybe he could fix her, bring her back fully. He had a chance at redemption. Wiping away the tears of joy, he turned and hugged a now-standing Liara tightly, despite the fact she had been cruel to him for such a long time. She stood awkwardly, with his arms wrapped around her.

"Thank you," he said into her ear, "she deserves this."

Eventually, Liara gave in and laced her arms around him too and they held each other for a while, Shepard content to do something other than wallow in his own misery for a while and Liara happy to see him do that. It was a few minutes before they broke apart and looked at one another. For a few seconds they shared an intense stare; each trying to think of what to say, before both breaking into huge awkward smiles.

"Liara, I'm sorry," Shepard said. He knew it wasn't enough to make up for the years of torture he'd put her through. Liara stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek.

"I know," came her reply, she too now trying to hold back tears, "but I'm not. You needed to see how much you needed me!" They both laughed. It was strange, Shepard thought, how different he felt here, back on the Normandy. It was only a few hours ago he'd been ready to shoot the person knocking on his door.

"EDI," Shepard announced, his voice much louder now, "status report on the Normandy."

It took a few seconds, but eventually, "All systems operational, Commander," echoed through the ship.

"Okay, good." He turned back to Liara, "it looks like it's time for you to set off then. You have your crew, you have, well, you have you." He smiled. Patting one of the computer boxes, Shepard continued "Take good care of her, both EDI and the Normandy."

Shepard turned to leave the AI core, but felt a tug on his arm. Liara was holding him firmly by both hands. "You take care of yourself while I'm gone."

With another smile, the pair left and made their way through the CIC and to the cockpit. The small journey was much more comfortable this time around, now that Liara seemed to have warmed back up to him. Shepard found it odd seeing the galaxy map again. Having spent so much time there directing the ship, it sort of felt like an extension of his will in a way. If he wanted to go somewhere, the ship simply just took him. From the Citadel to Omega, the galaxy was his to explore. A wave of jealousy swept through him as he realised that is what Liara would now be doing, but he pushed it aside.

Eventually, the cockpit came into view, it's comfy, leather chair not occupied by Joker, but instead a Salarian.

"Oh, Commander you finally made it?" The mocking greeting made Shepard clench his jaw tightly. The chair spun to reveal it was the same Salarian who had knocked on his door earlier that day. "Well, now that the "great Shepard" is here, we might be able to save the galaxy! Wouldn't that be great..."

"Jahest, don't be so rude," Liara scolded, "you've only been a Spectre a couple of weeks and you're acting like you've been one your entire life. Shepard's been one longer than you've been alive."

"No, it's alright." Shepard replied, "I've not been the greatest Spectre these past few years. But yes, I'm here so you can go." Raising his voice once more, he continued, "EDI, you will be given co-ordinates by Liara, you must allow flight to this destination. After this, you will take further commands from her. Understand?"

Jahest span the chair back around, rolling his eyes. His extremely pale green skin was now bathed in a glow of orange as EDI unlocked the flight controls. "Finally," he cursed and entered the data.

"Understood, Commander. Launching now." The floor beneath them jerked angrily as the Normandy's engines burst into life.

"What are you doing, Jahest?" Liara shouted, running forward to beside his chair, "we haven't undone the tethers yet!" Again the Normandy shot forward, the floor becoming a steep slope before sinking back to normal once more.

"I'm not doing anything!" Jahest screamed in reply, his high-pitched Salarian voice, which was moments before full of contempt and superiority, now cracked with youth, inexperience and panic. Shepard grabbed hold of the nearest solid object to anchor himself steady.

"She's trying to take off!" he too joining in on the shouting. People began flocking to the CIC to see what was going on, as the floor beneath their feet tilted this way and that. "You said EDI's processing power was limited, maybe she didn't understand us properly? We didn't say when, so she assumed now!" The ship tugged one last time against it's restaints, before an almighty crack echoed around the entire ship and the wall before the Normandy grew closer. She'd broken free.

Shepard laughed as others ran around him in panic and shock. No one had a clue what was going on. Jahest scrambled at the controls, but his efforts were in vain. EDI had a target and she was going there. Apparently Joker's unshackling hadn't been fully reset after all. As the Normandy's nose smashed through the grey museum wall and unleashed a burst of light into the cockpit, Shepard continued to laugh. His hands were clamped onto a railing as the floor rocked beneath him; the ships internal gravity hadn't kicked in yet. Blue sky was all that could be seen out the windows, with the occasional spot of white, wispy cloud. The hum of the engines could be heard from the cockpit, as EDI put them into overdrive. They hadn't been used in a while, but now they were at maximum capacity.

All this information rocketed through Shepard's head at once; still he laughed. He'd missed this; the thrills, the spills, the surprises and the adventure. After all this time, Shepard thought he'd given it up and the appeal had worn off but here he was again, setting off once more into the unknown... and he loved it.


	9. Jump

**Chapter 9 - Jump**

Wisps of steam curled wildly through the half shut door of the shower in the Captain's Quarters of the Normandy. The tap had been cranked up to full heat, and Shepard had sat in the shower for just under an hour, watching the near-boiling water bounce off the floor, condense on the cool, metal walls and try to escape the room itself. It had felt good to wash the events of the day away, and focus on what was to come ahead.

EDI had simply decided leave, and although they had eventually managed to convince her that they could stop and maybe wait for actual confirmation that they could leave, the Normandy was half way to the Sol Relay. It would take two hours to get there, due to the heavy speed limitations put in place in the now heavily populated system. The last thing they needed were the few survivors of the Reaper war accidentally smashing into each other.

Since he'd been sweating so much previously, he'd decided to take a shower. Liara had been very confused when he'd made his way to the crew's bathroom.

"What's wrong?" Shepard remembered saying, a towel flung over his forearm and a bottle of shower gel clasped in the same hand.

"Just, I thought you'd want your old room back," she replied, "I might be in charge here, but we both know that's still your room and, really, this is still your ship." She'd marched him to the door of the Captain's Quarters and turned the shower on herself, just to make sure he wouldn't sneak out. Shepard wouldn't be surprised if she'd debated waiting outside his room rather than return to the bridge. He wondered how it was Liara was the leader of this expedition. Yes, she was well known, but she was in charge of Spectres. He hadn't realised her influence was that widespread.

Looking at his palms, Shepard decided they were wrinkled enough by the hot water and shut the shower off, stepping out into the much colder room outside. He wiped away the thin layer of mist that had formed on the mirror of the bathroom and stared deeply into his own eyes. What was he doing here? He should have asked to leave the moment he could. There was no place for him here, amongst the faces of those much more able than him. If they found something dangerous, what would he do, just sit in the ship like a little child? The thought sickened him, it would be pathetic.

"When did I care about appearing pathetic, hmm?" Shepard asked his reflection, rubbing his neck and cheeks with the back of his hand. A shave could wait. Instead, he grabbed the nearby towel and began to dry himself, from top to bottom. The rhythmic, repetitive task of pulling the towel back and forth across his skin lulled Shepard into a sort of trance. It could have been anywhere between a couple of seconds to twenty minutes that he just stood there drying himself. Eventually, he caught himself in the mirror, smiling.

It was an odd expression to wear when you've just been kidnapped by an almost sentient spaceship, but it suited him just fine. Shepard was simply happy to be doing something with his life again. Before he had time to consider this thought further, he heard the main door to his room open. Wrapping the towel around his waist, Shepard walked out of the bathroom to investigate. Before him stood a pretty brunette, her face round, cute and full of live. The way she was posed made it seem to Shepard that she was snooping around a place she knew she wasn't meant to be.

"Can I help you?" Shepard asked, slightly irritated. Not that he was so out of touch to be annoyed by an attractive young woman coming into his room, but the thought of meeting more of these new people gave him a headache. It was hard enough to talk to the people he'd known most of his life recently.

The woman literally jumped, taken back by Shepard's voice. She span round to face him, bringing her hand up to salute. Only then did she notice Shepard was mostly naked, save for the bit of cloth that was his towel. She completed the salute awkwardly, averting her eyes. "S-sorry to barge in, Commander. I did buzz you multiple times, a-and when you didn't reply I thought you might have gone for a walk o-or something and I could just leave this here." Her speech was hurried, and she tumbled over her words, as though she wanted the conversation to end as soon as possible. She signaled to the bag that Shepard now noticed was carrying.

"Oh," Shepard replied casually, rubbing the back of his head as a stray water droplet ran from his still moist hair and down his back, "yeah, Liara said she'd send me some fresh clothes. Thank you, Miss...?"

With her eyes glued to the ceiling, the woman replied, "Lucille. Well, my first name is Lucille, my second name is Reynolds, so I guess that would make me Miss Reynolds, right?" She laughed nervously, he eyes looked everywhere but the person she was talking to. Shepard reached over and took the bag, making Lucille turn away slightly.

"Are you all right, Miss Reynolds?" Shepard smiled. It might have been cruel, but it had been a while since he'd been in a conversation with someone he didn't know and not been the one squirming. Being back on the Normandy definitely seemed to have some weird healing properties for him.

Finally she looked at him, careful to keep her gaze set on his face. "Well, you know, you're Commander Shepard, that's scary enough! But erm... you're in a towel and you've just come out from the shower. There's stories online about this kind of stuff happening you know. The innocent young girl meets the rugged veteran... Not that I read any, obviously!" She blushed violently as she realised what she'd said. With a nervous laugh, she turned and strode quickly to the exit, leaving a baffled and bemused Shepard in her wake.

He shook his head and reached into the bag of clothing, pulling out the items and placing them on the nearby desk. Why was he surprised at that sort of behavior from people still? To him he was just, well, him. Nothing special, nothing extraordinary. Turned out he was good at fighting and making decisions on the fly, but that was about it. But the rest of the world didn't see him that way, he remembered. When he had gone into that bar with James all those years ago the story had been exactly the same. The soldiers there had seen him as some sort of mythical legend, that wasn't really on the same level as them. And that was before he'd defeated the Reapers too. Still, she seemed nice enough. Usually, the dizzy type would annoy him, but for her to earn her place on the Normandy she would have to be a lot deeper than she appeared. Lucille wasn't in the uniform of a Spectre, so must be one of the crew. He made a point to inquire about her later, then turned to the selection of clothes set out before him.

It wasn't long before Shepard had dressed; just in a pair of casual trousers and a plain grey shirt, and set off to find Liara. The Asari had sent one of his old military uniforms up, but that was a firm no in Shepard's mind; he was just here for the ride. As the lift doors opened to the CIC, it lifted Shepard's heart to see the CIC alive again. People sat at the terminals tapping away maniacally, others delivering and sharing messages on holographic tablets. Shepard walking amongst them like a ghost. No one seemed to acknowledge him, but as he rounded the front of the galaxy map and headed towards the cockpit, he had a sneaking suspicion that everyone had just been waiting for him to pass before the staring began. But the buzz of noise hadn't died down, so Shepard ignored the feeling as pure paranoia; an emotion he would have to rid himself off.

Jahest was alone when Shepard arrived, looking out at the huge expanse that was space. Even when the galactic community was thriving and you could reach most places in the galaxy in under a few days, it had still felt so intimidating and alive. Now it was much emptier, and they were venturing forth into the unknown. Shepard couldn't deny he was both excited and terrified by the prospect. Despite this being a recon mission, there was still the issue of something attacking and destroying a ship in the middle of nowhere. Plus, it was unexplored space, so how did the empty ship end up getting back in the first place...

"Just under a few minutes until we hit the relay, Dr. T'Soni. You've got good timing." Jahest said, his attention locked to the controls. Shepard had never piloted anything larger than the rapid transit pods on the Citadel, but Joker had always seemed calm during this stage of flight. It was only in combat had he been checking every read out every single second. Maybe Jahest was just eager to make up for his floundering earlier.

"Thanks, I wasn't aware I had such great time keeping skills." Shepard replied, intending to bait a response from the Salarian. He didn't know what it was, but having someone hate him so much for his failures made Shepard feel better about himself just a bit. At least he was being punished by someone rather than constantly praised.

"Oh, it's you." Jahest's tone slipped dangerously low, but he didn't turn away from the glowing ship controls. "You did that on purpose earlier, didn't you? To get me back for what i said about you. I get it, I'm not stupid."

Shepard laughed, much louder than he should have, but laughing at the Salarian would most likely wind him up even more so it was best to make the most of it. "Oh Jahest, you other think things." He patted the back of the leather chair. "That was just your incompetence, that's all." Spinning the chair around, Jahest stood and pointed a finger threateningly in Shepard's face.

"Don't mock me Human. Any soldier could have done what you did, you were just lucky and surrounded by a lot of far more skillful friends." His face was inches away from Shepards, though slightly below due to his much smaller stature. The Salarian breathed heavily. Obviously he wasn't a fan of being made fun of, but he was so distracted by proving a point he didn't hear the clicking of heels walking down the hallway behind Shepard.

"Thank you for the compliment, Jahest, but shouldn't you be paying more attention to the flying the ship?" Liara's soothing voice caused Jahest's eyes to widen in surprise, then tighten one more as his glare at Shepard intensified. The finger pointing in Shepard's face curled up with the rest of his hand and formed a fist.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. It's just hard to concentrate with uninvited guests distracting me."

"Maybe work more on your self control, then. I advise you sit down and carry on with your job." Liara appeared beside Shepard, who flashed her a smile before turning away from Jahest and looking out one of the side windows. "What's the sit-rep?" She continued, as Jahest returned to his seat huffing and puffing in anger at being caught away from his post.

"We should be coming up to the relay any second now," he mumbled in response. Shepard eagerly awaited the moment that it would come into sight. Despite voicing his disgust at being treated like a child earlier, he didn't mind looking like one now. He peered this way and that from his viewing port, like a small boy trying to spot the ocean on a trip to the seaside.

Liara laughed, before pressing a small button on the roof. Shepard recognised that button, it would send her voice throughout the entire ship. "Everyone listen up!" she commanded, her voice once again full of confidence, power and control. "We'll be hitting the relay soon, you all need to be in position and squads A through C need to be armed and armored and in your designated areas too. We don't want what happened to the last ship to go to this place to happen to us too. Liara out." Lowering her arm, she released the button and turned to Shepard. "I love doing that!"

"You never told me why you were in charge here. I mean, you said you'd asked to be here, but why would the council let you lead?" Shepard quizzed, he hadn't realised she had that much power.

A bark of laughter came from Jahest, "Not only did she ask to be on board, she was requested to be in charge by a big player in the galactic stakes. I won't bother mentioning who, Shepard, you've been locked up for so long you won't know who's who anymore." His tone indicated he was trying to show off his knowledge, maybe even suck up to, Liara. It wasn't working.

From behind the chair, Liara winked at Shepard. "Oh, of course he knows who it is, Jahest! You remember the Shadow Broker, right Shepard? Somehow he survived the Reaper war and was a big help in organising the rebuilding of Earth, and funding the construction of the new relays. He's very big with the Council." She smiled at Shepard, and stuck her tongue out at the unknowing Jahest, who couldn't see the pair in his big chair. Shepard laughed. Liara was far too good at leading a double life. She had immense power now. As herself, she had been instrumental in the Reaper war and her work afterwards brought her much renown. But the Shadow Broker was just a powerful, in both his infamous work as an information dealer and as an investor. Combined, they were an unstoppable force.

Confused by the laughter behind him, Jahest continued bitterly, "We're approaching the relay. Better strap yourselves in or... whatever." Shepard had been distracted and so hadn't noticed the spinning, glowing, beautiful machine before him. He'd seen glimpses of it in pictures or vids over the years, but in real life it was much more impressive. It was similar to the old design, made by the Reapers countless years ago, but this one seemed so much more... Human. He couldn't put his finger on it, since everywhere he looked it looked exactly the same as the ones he was used to. Something just seemed...

"Off?" Liara said, reading his mind once again. "I know how you feel, so does everyone who used the old ones. The theory is that the relays themselves had a very minor indoctrination field surrounding them, and by minor I mean almost irrelevant. It would take double an Asari lifetime to even get the tiniest hint of being indoctrinated, maybe longer. But somehow you can just tell that the presence isn't there any more. I'm not sure it's comforting, or scary."

The Normandy closed in on the glowing orb of the relay. Liara checked the co-ordinates of their jump again. It was dangerous to even attempt to go into a jump like this without another relay at the other end. You could just crash into a planet or a sun, or never stop and just be fired from the galaxy. The Normandy had been upgraded with one of the stopping mechanisms that Tali had invented long ago, but even that wasn't fool proof.

"Here we go," Shepard said as the glow got closer and closer. The ship shook slightly and Shepard closed his eyes tight. He'd done this hundreds, maybe thousands of times before, but still fear flowed through him. Gripping the handrail that he'd held during the take off from Earth, the light enveloped him and the ship and they were fired into the abyss.


	10. Relay

Chapter 10 - Relay

Something was wrong, Shepard knew and he wasn't even the pilot. Jahest couldn't not know, as the once orange and green holographic display bathed the cockpit in an angry red glow. His hands flew around the controls; not just for show anymore this was serious. Out of the viewing window, all Shepard could see was the streaks of light than they were leaving behind as they were flung through space at almost impossible speeds.

"What's wrong?" Liara asked, keeping her tone in check. The Salarian didn't need the added stress of his superior officer shouting at him, "are we unable to stop?"

"No no no no no no no," Jahest mumbled, his mind torn between the task of stabilising the slightly rocking vessel and forming a coherent sentence, "the device is malfunctioning, but it's saying it's not needed. I don't understand. The best I can do is stop it from messing with the other systems."

"Just do what you need to," Liara replied, glancing at Shepard worriedly "but you only have a few seconds until we hit our target, so fix this Jahest." He could tell she hated this. To anyone outside the ship, the journey would seem like it took place instantly, but inside it took longer. It was a strange phenomenon that Shepard had always shoved to the back of his mind, he couldn't explain it, it just happened. But the tense few seconds between reaching relays had always put him on edge. He wasn't in control here, his life and the success of the mission was in someone else's hands.

"Okay, we're there in three, two - what the hell is that?!" Jahest yelled in alarm as he ran his hands over the controls and the Normandy swung violently to the right. Despite the on board gravity, the entire crew stumbled at such a wild spin. But Jahest had reason to be surprised. The veins of light that had flown past the window since they'd hit the Sol relay disappeared and the ship once again returned to a somewhat normal speed. That's when they saw it.

Jahest had seen it only on the monitors, but now he saw it with his own eyes. It was unmistakably another relay, but whereas the one they'd used to get here had seemed slightly odd, this one was radically different. The design was completely spherical, rather than thin and elongated on one side. The outside was still a blue metal, but patches seemed to have been repaired with other materials, like a patchwork carpet. Occasionally, a burst of red light would flash around the blue core that still rotated like a normal relay, but instead of two rings there were three and it span at crazily high speeds, causing the entire structure to look like it was ripping itself apart. It was terrifying.

The Normandy righted itself just as the Salarian slammed his hand on a button and the hum from the engines disappeared. "Stealth systems engaged," the Salarian reported. Shepard was impressed, he'd almost forgotten all about that what with the shocking discovery of the weird relay. The stealth aspect was the entire reason they needed the Normandy, and in turn him, in the first place.

"Where are we, Jahest? Are we where we needed to be?" Liara couldn't take her eyes away from the machine outside that drifted slowly past the window, but the mission was still top priority. A nod was his only reply, but he brought up a map of theit location which he began to study. Liara eventually tore her eyes from the window and joined him. Shepard too was transfixed by the sight to do anything. It was a relay, but obviously not one the Council races had created. This one was very... alien.

It was easy to see how the other ship got lost here. Like Liara had said, this technology was experimental, so when something had gone wrong the crew had probably tried to latch onto the nearest relay signal they could find. Now all they were here all they had to worry about was what had caused the destruction of the last ship to come through. Liara was crouching now, in a deep discussion with her pilot. Shepard caught snippets of what they were saying, but knew it wasn't a conversation for him. He caught Liara's eye and they nodded to each other, acknowledging Shepard's departure. His legs felt a bit shaky after all the excitement, so he decided to do a bit of recon around the ship proper.

Walking through the CIC again, Shepard could tell the crew were in over drive. People had been working before, but now people were really, really working. The pace was up and the mood was down. Everyone knew what was at stake here, and if anything he was in the way. Standing at Kelly and Sam's old station was Lucille, barking instructions and information into a headset and passing messages around the ship. At least Shepard knew her job now. It was easy to tell why the young girl had been selected for this position. Kelly had been the easiest person in the galaxy to like, while Sam had an expert knowledge of, well, everything it seemed. One to one, Lucille had been sweet and charming but it seemed she also knew when to cut through all that and focus on the job at hand. But she didn't seem to be at ease, more like the opposite. Shepard put it down to blasting through into an unexplored system, containing an unknown relay. No doubt that had given her a lot of stress to deal with for the past few minutes.

Finally, she yanked the device from her ear, threw it down to the station with a clatter and placed her hands, palms-down on the surface before her. That quick burst of work had made her rosy cheeks even brighter. A lock of lightly curled, chocolate brown hair had escape from behind her ear. Brushing it back, she stood up again, shaking her arms as though to get some life back into her body. Then she noticed Shepard staring at her, replied to his silent examination with a broad smile and signalled for him to come over.

"Hey! See, wearing clothes makes things much less awkward," she laughed as Shepard grew closer, the sound ringing comfortingly in Shepard's ears, even over the top of all the other noises going on.

"You sure I'm not interrupting, Miss Reynolds? You seemed busy." Shepard leant on the guard rail that lead up towards the overhead view of the galaxy map. How many times had he designated the flight path of this ship from there? Too many to count, and even thinking about it gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach. This used to be his ship,

She waved her hand at him, as though to say it was nothing. "Well, this is the kind of stuff you have to deal with when you're commanding officer is stood staring out the window. We all got visual feeds of what she saw, but everyone's so confused. Most of the people "working" right now are just running around asking everyone else what needs to be done." Lucille narrowed her brow in frustration, creating small wrinkles on her otherwise perfect face.

"What, you don't like the Normandy's new crew?" Shepard asked, partly as a joke and partly with a relief that she wasn't complaining about the ship itself.

"It's not that I don't like them, it's just... apart from me, they're all rookies really, barely out of school." Crossing her arms, Lucille paced around to Shepard' other side and leaned in close to his ear. "They might all have top grades and some experience serving on a ship, but nothing truly dangerous. Plus, we've all been brought together from different ships. It's hard to work with people you don't know. In truth, we aren't ready for this." She moved back and glanced around, her green eyes furtive and alert, hoping anyone hadn't overheard her negativity. Shepard understood. She was the one that people expected support from and if word got out that she didn't believe in the crew then her job would be much harder to do, if not impossible.

"You'll all gel soon enough." The words seemed to spill from Shepard's mouth without much thought. They just seemed like the right thing to say. "When I took command of the first Normandy, what was the first thing I did? I filled it with non-humans and decided we'd be a team. Initially, I thought it would be great. Everyone would bring their own unique talents into one super team. Then I realised that having a group of strangers work together is hard enough, nevermind one comprised of different races. I was worried too, especially when certain members were very... vocal in their disapproval." Remembering the awkwardness that had followed his conversation with Ashley Williams on the subject, Shepard closed his eyes and shook his head slowly "But look what we did in the end. We defeated the Reapers together, just me, this ship and that very same crew. Of course this was before we all became a bit friendlier towards each other; undefeatable galactic invasion forces tend to bring people together."

Patting his arm, Lucille span around Shepard, back to her desk, and jammed the communication device into her ear. "You know," she laughed, elongating her words happily, "you could totally do my job. Way to go with the inspirational speeches." Instantly, she began tapping at the console before her and giving help to whoever was on the other end of the conversation, this time her tone much lighter, like she had a new spring in her step.

One of his hands still held Shepard's weight on the guard rail. Looking around again at the bustling CIC, he smiled. First, being on the Normandy had made him feel better, now he'd down the same to those working in her. Patting the rail, he headed towards the elevator, eager to explore the rest of the ship again. Maybe him being here wasn't as unfortunate as he first thought.


	11. Brandy

**Chapter 11 - Brandy**

Roaring laughter filled the crew deck again. Members of the Normandy's crew came together at least once a day to eat, drink and relieve the stresses of their work. Working in rotation meant there was always enough crew to operate the ship to it's full capabilities while other could get some well earned sleep in between the hours they spent scanning, analysing and learning as much as they could about the system they'd found themselves in. The crew would come together to share a meal every so often, some staying up longer and others waking up earlier just to spend time together. Despite Lucille's concerns, and just as Shepard had predicted, the crew had come to enjoy one another's company after only a couple of days on board the Normandy. Working in space had that effect on people. If you can't trust the person manning the station next to you, who could you trust?

Shepard watched as the various men and women, of various races, interacted from afar. While they centred around the table in the middle of the deck, he preferred to sit in the medical bay with his food. Since the Normandy had left in such a hurry, it turned out they'd left the Medical Officer behind. Shepard wasn't worried, everyone here was trained in first aid, and some even more so.

It had been three days since they'd left Earth. Every since they arrived in the system, Liara had the Normandy flying around and trying to figure out the source of the attack. And who built that strange Mass Relay. No luck as of yet apparently, but Liara had maintained her cool, calm air. It wasn't like they'd expected to find much straight away anyway.

Shepard, on the other hand, had spent a lot of time in the AI core, just chatting with EDI. The conversations were repetitive and often boring, but it gave him a feeling of what EDI was capable of. He'd do his best to fix her when they got home. He'd not really spoke to any of the crew apart from Liara, who was a close friend anyway, and Lucille. Shepard wasn't being givens pecial attention by her, she seemed to be everyone's best buddy.

Shepard sighed, and twirled the fork ideally around in his food. With a mixed race crew, it was hard to keep quality to a maximum when you had to cook so many different meals. He was just glad he hadn't been given Turian food by mistake. Tonight's dish was some sort of pasta, but the sauce was bland, the pasta was sticky and the meal in general was cold. Not great, Shepard pushed the plate aside, and the fork clattered down upon it. Running his hands through his hair, Shepard stood and made to leave, but before he reached the door he stopped suddenly with a smile playing upon his face.

His mind flashed back to a bottle that Chakwas had kept hidden in one of the drawers, and Shepard knew it would still be here. The last time they'd drunk, they hadn't managed to finish the entire bottle, and the Normandy hadn't been cleared out when they brought it into the museum. Being exactly the same as it was when it lead the fleets into battle was one of the many draws of the ship when it was an exhibit. The first drawer was empty, the second merely filled with old medical records. A familiar name caught his eye, and he couldn't help but laugh.

The words "Jeff Moreau" had been scribbled out and replaced with the word "Joker." It was just like him to do that, and just like Doctor Chakwas to keep physical copies of the records, even though they were all logged in Alliance systems anyway. Resisting the urge to flick through the pages, Shepard continued to search for the brandy. It would have been rude to look through his file without permission. Still, seeing the name made him wonder what his old pilot was doing now, and how would he feel about his lady being piloted by someone else?

Eventually the sharp clinking of glass resonated from the drawer as he opened the third, largest drawer. It was here. Running his finger along the bottle's label, Shepard removed the dust and looked at the name. "Serrice Ice Brandy," he said, then whistling in admiration. A long, descending note that was reserved for only the most impressive, old, lost things.

"Shepard?! You're drinking?"

The voice startled him, almost sending the bottle flying from his grip, but Shepard should have expected Liara to be keeping tabs on him wherever he went. "No, well, yes. I was planning to, but not for the same reasons I was before." Her single raised eyebrow and folded arms showed she was not convinced. "Honestly, I'm not in that place anymore. I promise." Liara's face softened. She moved closer, and took the bottle gently, examining the label just as Shepard had and nodded approvingly.

"Come on then, we'll take this to your quarters." She held her hand out to Shepard, lifting him up from the Doctor's chair. "We'll make it a celebration. You're feeling better and we haven't been shot at yet, what more could we ask for?"

As they walked through the crew's quarters, knowing looks were shared amongst the crew that still hadn't finished eating their food. A couple laughed, some winked at Shepard. He became very aware he was still holding Liara's hand.

"So we haven't found anything yet then?" The question was more to take his mind off what the crew had been suggesting, rather than actually wanting to know. Gathering information took time, but the longer they were here the more they found out about the system and hopefully the attackers. Hand in hand with this, was the increased chance that they'd get attacked, since the Normandy could only remain stealthed for so long.

Liara entered the elevator, nodded at a few members of the crew who had been late for dinner and pressed the button for the top floor before replying. "No, not really. A couple of hours ago we encountered a few strange readings from a nearby moon, but I haven't had chance to properly investigate them yet. They'll be nothing to worry about, probably just bits of debris or something." Her grin was reassuring, warm and friendly. But there was a hint of something else in here eyes that Shepard couldn't put his finger on. Her fingers were laced between his; the tips tickling the backs of his hands playfully. Palms sweaty, Shepard readjusted his grip on her but didn't let go. He couldn't help but feel safe when she was around.

Slowly, the elevator stopped and the pair walked out. Liara took off quickly, letting go of Shepard's hand and dancing into the main room. Despite growing older, she seemed to be a lot more childlike than when Shepard first met her, but it wasn't a bad thing. It could only mean she was enjoying herself. When he too passed through the doors, he found Liara lounging on the sofas down the small flight of steps. She'd already poured the brandy.

Conversation flowed as easily as the alcohol did, and it wasn't until Shepard woke up with a headache did he realise he'd fallen asleep. Liara's head lay in his lap, facing up towards the ceiling. She too was sound asleep, with Shepard's arm across her stomach, cuddling her. Unsure when he'd reached this situation, Shepard glanced over at the now empty bottle of brandy. How did he got lost like this? In this evening that had flown past. In this evening that had been wonderful, with his best friend by his side. In this evening where a beautiful, young Asari had been getting closer to him all night. How had he been blind for so long about her?

Shepard used his other, free hand to stroke Liara's perfect, pale skin. She nuzzled his hand in her sleep. It was a position he would never imagine someone of her power to be in, but even powerful people have someone special. The delicate blue skin, combined with her angled features and wonderful smile made for a beautiful creature. Breathing deeply, her perfume filled his nostrils, intensifying her beauty. She was...

Perfect.

Perfect.

Perfect?

Swallowing hard, Shepard held back the bile and vomit that rushed into his mouth. Liara could not be his love, nor could anyone else. Ever. He had to physically force himself not to recoil, run to the bathroom and throw up. Shepard blanked as a wave of guilt-filled memories overwhelmed him. Every single thought that had gone through his head at that moment had been a betrayal to the woman he had loved and the one woman he had failed the most.


	12. Miranda

**Chapter 12 - Miranda**

Staring out the window had become one of Shepard's favourite past times since he'd been imprisoned on Earth. The term "honoured guest" had been thrown around a lot to begin with, but Shepard wasn't stupid. The window and listening to James ramble on and doing exercise were the only things that had kept him sane. Endeavouring to stay as fit as possible during his time out of the field, Shepard worked out a couple of hours each day. A mix of cardio and strength work outs had kept his body lean and ready to go as soon as he was needed.

But that was the problem, no one seemed to need him right now. Sure, the soldiers would salute when he was escorted from his room but they were reprimanded for doing so. What reason would they have for saluting a civilian? Because that's all he was now, an ex-soldier. Anderson had tried to keep his spirits up and fight his corner, but so far it hadn't been going well and Shepard had remained stuck on Earth for the past four months. Just because he'd worked with Cerberus and done some things the Alliance didn't agree with, didn't mean he deserved this very slow form of torture. He was a soldier, he deserved better than this! Days and nights blurred into one another, and Shepard's mind began to switch off. Until one night.

At first, Shepard had only half a woken; he thought he'd imagined the tapping and just rolled over to the other side of the bed. But the second time, he'd jumped out from underneath the covers, wide awake and very alert. Anderson had warned him of the possibility that people might not be happy with the way he'd acted, whether that be people who hated him for joining Cerberus, or Cerberus agents who'd want him dead for defying the Illusive Man's wish to save the Collector Base. Shepard had only laughed and told Anderson he should be more worried about the arrival of the Reapers. They could come any day now, and no one was preparing.

But the threat of assassination felt very real now, and even more terrifying was the fact Shepard was without a weapon. After being officially, but quietly, dismissed from the Alliance, he'd had access to arms revoked meaning Shepard spent most of his time trapped in his guarded room or surrounded by armed soldiers to protect him. It had felt ludicrous then, but an armed bodyguard would have been great right now. Side-stepping into the shadows, Shepard hunkered down out of sight behind a desk. Tap, tap, tap. It came again from the window. This had to be the worse assassin in the history of all assassins, Shepard thought. They were making so much noise.

Keeping in the shadows, he sidled over to as close to the window as he could get. The city below him was alive with lights and transports zooming across the sky. On any other occasion Shepard would find the sight beautiful but not now. Suddenly, a figure appeared. The lights from behind them created a dark shadow, and it wasn't until they pressed their face right against the window did Shepard realise who he was hiding from.

It was indeed a Cerberus agent, or more accurately an ex-Cerberus agent. Miranda's furrowed brow told Shepard everything he needed to know; she was cold, annoyed and wanted to get inside sooner rather than later. Standing, Shepard unlocked the window and the woman hopped elegantly inside.

"Finally," she hissed, cuddling herself in an effort to get warm, "Have you any idea how cold it is out there, Shepard?" Even with the shakes and a bright red nose, Miranda was the most beautiful woman Shepard had ever laid eyes on. A huge smile appeared on his face as he rushed towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her into the air. Laughing, she flailed slightly before whispering frantically to be put down. Cradling each other, the lovers just stood together, simply happy to no longer be apart.

"How did you get up here without being noticed?" Shepard eventually asked. Not wanting to ruin their reunion, but also extremely curious, he kept his voice upbeat and hid the worry within him. If Miranda was caught in his room, she'd most likely be imprisoned too. In the attempt to sound happy, the question was posed much louder than intended.

Releasing him from her grip, Miranda danced backwards away from Shepard and began to read through the open journal on the desk Shepard had been hiding behind not moments before. "Keep it down, will you? You know how the Alliance would feel about you cavorting with "Cerberus."" The last word was said in such a goofy way that even she knew how ridiculously serious her association with the organisation would be taken by the Alliance, despite her refusal to work with them any more. Alliance Intel had been keeping closer tabs on the group ever since Shepard returned to Earth and he'd managed to hear bits and pieces about their mass recruiting and other, much more wild and dangerous ventures. They were getting bigger by the day, and even more deadly. "How did I get up here, hmm?" She continued, putting the diary down and turning to place her rear upon the desk. "Well, let's just say I'm a lady of many talents!"

With a simple flash of a smile and a flick of the hair, Miranda had Shepard transfixed. Even though her looks were designed to be perfect by her father, Shepard found the way that Miranda owned and used her figure to be much more attractive. Jack had complained about Miranda "whoring around" in her tight clothing and initially Shepard had agreed. But later, he'd come to understand the power of that look and although her shields were much weaker in combat, any man would be put off guard by potentially hurting such a beautiful specimen. On the other hand, a female opponent would most likely become insanely jealous of her looks and anger often made a soldier make mistakes. Miranda wasn't just a pretty face either. Her brain was fine tuned to work much quicker than anyone else Shepard knew, apart from maybe Mordin.

What was even more alluring for Shepard, was that they seemed to connect in a very strange way. The pair were opposites, that was very clear. In almost every aspect they were different and often believed different courses of action were right. Shepard would jeopardise a mission to save one person, whereas Miranda would sacrifice hundreds for even the slightest increase in the chances of success. It wasn't that she was cruel, just had the ability to look at the bigger picture. But despite that, or maybe because of it, Miranda and Shepard complimented each others somehow. He would calm down her more outrageous ways of thinking while she would bring out his wilder edge.

As Shepard moved closer, Miranda linked her arms around the back of his, moving her legs apart so that Shepard could stand in between them as she sat on his desk. Shepard lowered his head, closed his eyes and their lips touched for the first time in months. No longer did Shepard care how Miranda managed to sneak through the tightest security on Earth and appear at his window, but only about the fact that she had. She'd risked capture for him. They kissed again and Shepard breathed deeply through his nose. Intoxicating. That was the only way to describe it; to describe her. The kiss intensified, Miranda ran her fingers through his hair and wrapped her legs tighter around his waist.

Grabbing her roughly by the thighs, Shepard picked her up; a small giggle escaped Miranda's soft lips as he did so. Carrying her over to the bed, she asked playfully, "Really? This is how you want us to spend time together? Typical man..." before passionately kissing him once more. Shepard only smiled through the kiss in reply and placed her down onto the duvet with a soft flump. Still with her legs around him, Miranda pulled his shirt off over his head and caressed his toned back and shoulders. It was only for a moment, but Shepard broke away and looked down at the woman below him. She smiled, then pursed her lips poutily, signalling for the kissing to continue.

"I lov-" he began, before Miranda quickly silenced him with a single finger to his lips. Shaking her head, she began to kiss him again. Running his hands along the curves of her body, he moved his lips down to her neck. Miranda arched her back and giggled once more, before pulling his head up to her eye level.

"We'll say the L word when we really mean it. Right now you're caught up in mystery, danger and lust. Maybe we do feel that way about each other, but we can't be sure yet." She was deadly serious, her eyes almost seemed cold and uncaring, but Shepard had seen through that facade before. He knew she was as deep as an ocean and more loving than anyone he'd ever met. The sacrifices and effort she put towards her sister's safety proved that. She was the one person Miranda wouldn't sacrifice for any reason, and even though she'd killed in the past, the lives of innocents still played in her mind.

"Okay," was the only word to leave Shepard's mouth for the rest of that night. In the morning, dawn's rays woke Shepard, only for him to open his eyes to an empty bed. They'd lost themselves that night, and he'd never had the chance to ask how she was doing on her own. Pacing over to his desk, he saw a piece of paper folded in half and placed just in the right way that it stood up. Curly hand writing covered the page and the I's had been dotted with small little hearts.

Had to go, I heard movement in the hall.  
I'll try to see you again soon, but no promises.  
I'm fine by the way!

- Miri

Shepard felt a lump in his throat. There was so much he wanted to talk to her about, so much that had been forgotten in their night of passion. But this note would do for now, and the small hearts would suffice until they told one another their true feelings. No matter the flaws in their sometimes strange relationship, Shepard couldn't help but think that she really was... perfect.


	13. Contact

**Chapter 13 - Contact**

That night had described Shepard's relationship with Miranda entirely. Rushed, but amazing. If she hadn't been killed on Horizon, they could have spent so much more time together. She'd burst into his life so many times only to disappear in a flash not long after. Just like she had done that night. But what she had always made clear to Shepard was that life needed to be lived to the fullest.

Like a bolt of lightning in a dark, stormy sky, the memory made Shepard see the light. In an instant his disgust with himself went away, only to be replaced with acceptance, peace and hope. If he developed feelings for someone else, it wasn't a betrayal of Miranda's memory at all. He could still love her, but she was gone and he needed to move on and experience everything that life gave him opportunity to. She would have wanted that for him, and for herself if she was still alive. Now Shepard was living for the both of them. If anything, how he'd acted the past forty years had been the biggest disgrace to her memory that he could have done. How had he not seen this before?

Liara shuffled in his lap, and opened her eyes slowly. It took her a few seconds to realise where she was, not knowing she'd fallen asleep in Shepard's lap. Sitting bolt upright, she began to apologise, waving her arms wildly like a scared bird and shuffling away from him. But instead of accepting her grovelling words and letting her get away, Shepard grabbed her waist and pulled her closer.

"Oh," Liara sighed, breathing slightly into Shepard's face. The scent of brandy still tainted her, but the smell was oddly, but wonderfully, refreshing. Her eyes still looked confused, but widened again as she remembered the events of the previous night, "Oh. Oh! Shepard, I'm so sorry! I was just in such a good mood and then I started drinking, I really didn't mean to flirt so mu-"

It had been forty years since he'd kissed anyone, and Shepard hoped he hadn't lost his touch. Liara froze up, like a wooden plank as their lips met, but ever so slowly sank deeper into the kiss. It was warm and tender; like it was shared between a couple who had been together their entire lives. Shepard supposed they had in a way. He was more comfortable around Liara than anyone else in the galaxy. They broke apart slowly. Shepard didn't want to stop tasting those beautiful blue lips, but he felt the heat emanating from Liara's face. She was blushing.

"You, did, you just, did you..." Liara mumbled, lost for words. Shepard, still with one arm holding her close to him around her waist, caressed her face gently Her face was hot to the touch with embarrassment. And maybe something a little more than that...

"I'm sorry, Liara. I was just in such a good mood, then I started drinking..." He trailed off and they both laughed. Liara's laugh was gentle and sweet, just like it's owner. But Shepard needed her to know that he meant every emotion that he'd tried to put into that kiss, and that it wasn't just a big joke. "Then I woke up and realised what I'd been missing this entire time. You're... stunning Liara. You're beautiful and powerful, but humble and kind." Liara relaxed more in Shepard's grip at his words, until he know longer had to hold her tightly to stop her getting away. This time she was coming to him. Leaning forward, Liara closed her vibrant sapphire eyes and they kissed again. This time there was nothing to hold them back.

Pushing him down onto the sofa, Liara clambered on top of him, entwining her body with his. Slowly he ran his hands down her back and sides, caressing and loving every curve of her body. He took a deep breath through his nose, just like he had way back on Earth when Miranda had snuck in to his room. Liara's scent was a combination of all his favourite smells. Or maybe all his favourite smells had just reminded him of the one person who'd been there for him almost his entire life.

Feeling a buzz in the back of his head, Shepard pulled away but Liara cooed quietly, "Hey, just let it happen." The buzz grew in size and scope as they kissed once more, but trusting Liara Shepard let it in. A tidal wave of lust, passion and love overwhelmed him, heightening every sense at least tenfold. A sliver of Liara's essence had joined with his mind and he never wanted this beautiful feeling to leave.

It was Liara who broke the kiss the second and placed a soft hand on Shepard's face. The gesture was calm, but her expression was worried. "Can you hear that?" she asked, tilting her head as though straining to catch the tiniest vibrations in the air. The faintest echo of an alarm travelled up from the lower levels, vibrating through the dense flooring and the empty elevator shaft. "Come on."

Leaping away from Shepard, Liara dashed to the elevator. The burst of emotion Shepard had experienced in those few moments began to die down, but he would never be truly rid of it. Now he could see why people found the Asari race so alluring and addictive. Shepard had never really seen them in a sexual fashion before. Yes, there had been the dancers, but the Asari he had spent time with had become firm friends, enemies or had seemed too regal to be considered in such a way. But now, his heart would forever yearn for his "Blue Rose." Smiling, Shepard remembered the Krogan, Charr, and how he had described his beloved that way. It was easy to see why; nothing could be more delicate or beautiful, but when handled the wrong way an Asari could leave you with some nasty scars. Shepard watched Liara as she walked away, and struggled to wipe the grin from his face before the possibly serious situation.

It took a while for the elevator to reach the Captain's Quarters, but when the door slid open they revealed a red faced Lucille. Bent double with hands on her knees, she huffed and puffed, before straightening and giving a quick salute.

"What's wrong, Reynolds?" Shepard asked, the alarm much easier to hear now.

Taking another deep breath, the brunette began to explain quickly. "Jahest went to empty the eezo core, all that stealthing really fills her up, you know? Three ships... out of nowhere... just..." She breathed heavily again, "I've been looking everywhere for you two! No one knew where you were!

"What about these ships? That can't be the end of the story?" Liara snapped, rubbing her eyes sleepily. Even though she'd been eager to pursue some !quality time" with Shepard, she hadn't fully woke up yet. Tiredness could make anyone grumpy.

"Well, we tried to get away, but with the ship at full capacity we can't jump into FTL. Jahest took one of them out, but the others are proving to be a bit more difficult to deal with. Come on."

They rode the short elevator journey down to the CIC, and when the doors opened Shepard saw it was once again in hyper activity mode. But this time everyone knew what they were doing. No more dawdling or walking around in an attempt to look busy. This was the real deal.

Briskly jogging over to her desk, Lucille hit a button and connected directly to Jahest's cabin. "Status update? I found Dr. T'Soni."

After a brief pause, sound burst through one of the nearby speakers. Jahest's reply dripped with sarcasm, "Great! Now we've found her everything will be fine!"

Lucille laughed before speaking again, "No, she's right here with me. Aaaaand I don't have my earpiece in."

"Oh..." Shepard could almost hear Jahest kicking himself from here, "Well, I've taken two of them out in total; there's only one more left. But it's different! The others were fighters, this one is bigger, more like a bomber. I can't punch through it's shields since they just recharge two quick and if i stick around too long tt just seems to keep pummeling us no matter how quickly I try to dodge. Some sort of seeking system maybe? I can't try and hide from it with the stealth tech either."

"How are shields holding up?" This time it was Liara who marched forward to press the button, sending Lucille hopping out of her way hurriedly.

"They're running low. Damn it, I knew we should have cleared out of that moon's range. I told you, Doctor!" Wincing, Liara turned away from the console and Lucille returned to her work, the earpiece lodged firmly in.

"He's right, I just wanted to monitor it a bit longer..." Liara mumbled worriedly. Looking desperately at Shepard, he could see she was asking for his help and advice. Shepard always used to be in charge, and it seemed Liara was having a hard time remembering that he wasn't any more.

Placing a hand on her arm comfortingly, Shepard said the only thing he could think of. "What can we do, Liara? Nothing. Every time the Normandy went into combat it's Joker we rely on to get us there safely. He might not like me, but I know that Jahest has the guts, brains and skill to get us through this alive. All we can do is support him." With that he lead the way to the cockpit once more.

"Jahest, sit-rep, now." Liara commanded as he entered the room.

"I can't shake it and our shields are nearly out! Any moment now, we'll start taking serious damage." The Salarian was a skilled pilot, that much was obvious. He'd kept the Normandy alive so far without EDI's help, giving Joker some serious competition. All of a sudden, he relaxed and scratched his head, "Hang on, they're retreating? They're turning around!" He began to cheer, smugly patting himself on the back.

Suddenly, he was interrupted by a huge thud into the side of the hull. Boom! The impact sent vibrations rippling through the walls and floor. All sounds from the CIC died instantly. Shepard couldn't believe it, the Normandy had been hit? How? Jahest had celebrated too early it seemed.

"EDI, damage report!" he yelled on instinct.

"Shield strength at an effective zero percent of maximum efficiency. Engines offline. Will attempt automatic repair. Hull breach on deck five, will attempt to seal oxygen inside, but breathing apparatus available on all floors. Proceed to deck five with caution."

"Damn it..." Shepard punched the wall next to him, sending a sharp pain through his arm, "How the hell did this happen!?"

Liara gasped, putting her hand over her mouth. "Come on, we have to get down there. Now." She turned to run, but then stopped and grabbed Jahest by the crook of his arm and pulled him along too. "What's the point in a pilot when the ship can't go anywhere?"

Shepard jogged along next to her, his longer strides making it easy to keep pace. "What is it, you know what's going on?"

"No," Liara scowled. Shepard sensed her anger wasn't directed at him however. "But I have a hunch. The last ship to limp back home had a huge impact crater on the underside of the hull and there were signs of battle all over it. It's not like the crew would have just opened the doors to their attacks would they?"

It was so obvious, it was Shepard's turn to kick himself. Whoever piloted the other ship had rammed into the Normandy, crashing through the weakened shields and directly into the ship interior. He'd bet a lot of credits that the ship was designed that way, with a fortified tip with an entrance on the front.

"Everyone, listen up!" Liara shouted, climbing onto the podium above the galaxy map. "We've got intruders. Everyone arm yourself, and be prepared to fire on sight at anything that isn't friendly when this door opens. Every Spectre on this level, with me. Everyone mask up. Let's hope those on other decks can hold their positions."

Noise filled the CIC again as small side arms and heat sinks were passed around to all members of the crew. Some looked terrified, others determined, some even excited. One of the younger members began to shudder violently and burst into tears. Shepard bit his lip in frustration. These people weren't soldiers. Just innocent people. Sure, they knew the dangers of this mission, but if those designated to protect them failed, who could do it? Not themselves, that's for sure.

Balling his fists tightly, Shepard grabbed one of the pistols and begun checking the gun was operational. His hands seemed to move of their own accord, muscle memory doing most of the work. It was just a standard issue M-3 Predator, but Shepard felt instantly powerful with it in his hands. He would protect these people, and unlike Miranda, EDI and the Geth he wouldn't fail them. Maybe he wasn't perfect. Maybe he was out of practice, but he might be the difference between them living and dying.

"When I said, "all Spectres with me," I didn't think about you."

Shepard turned to look upon a disapproving Liara, her arms crossed and a mix of anger and amusement played upon her features.

"There's what, twelve of you on this level? Against an entire boarding party? No way. We have no idea what we're facing here and if I'm going to fight, it may as well be on the front lines." Shepard put as much persuasiveness as he could into his voice, but she didn't look impressed. "You can't stop me, Liara. How could I live with myself if something happened to you and I wasn't there?"

That softened her up slightly. "Fine, but stay at the back, you don't have any armour on." She turned away, hiding the concern in her eyes, and began briefing her troops. Shepard strapped on a breathing mask like the rest of the Spectres, and cut out the middle man; calling for the elevator. A dull hum told him it was still, thankfully operational.

With a swoosh, the doors opened and the soldiers piled inside. The nervous looks of the crew were their farewell, as the doors shut once more, enclosing Shepard, Liara and Jahest in the tight metal box with the rest of the Spectres stationed on the CIC. With a jolt, the lift descended. "Eyes open, everyone." Shepard couldn't help himself. He was surprised when the line just popped into his head, even more so when he said it aloud. But nothing would beat his shock at the numerous "Aye, ayes," that responded to his command.

One of the closest had been behind Shepard, and when he turned to look over his shoulder it turned out it was the blonde Spectre from before, the one who had come with Jahest to his door. How had Shepard not realised he was on the ship? Nodding his appreciation to the man, Shepard turned back to look at the elevator door. When it opened again, anything could be on the other side. Anything at all. Was he ready for that? Checking his pistol once again, Shepard told himself he had to be. For everyone's sakes. No one was getting hurt saving him.

Not a sound could be heard when the lift stopped at the bottom. It was as though the room had transformed into a vacuum, but the story could not be more different on the other side. A wave of sound burst through the door as it opened, followed by a hail of gunfire, one Spectre losing his shield straight away and collapsed. A red mist burst from his now undefended chest and splattered the others, but Shepard quickly dived low and hurried over to the workstations where Steve Cortez used to work, taking cover. Roars of wild beasts echoed around the room, or at least that's what it sounded like to Shepard.

Most of the Spectres, including Liara, made it safely out of the elevator but a few corpses already littered the ground, joining those that had already been made when the attackers first arrived. The pistol was heavy in his sweaty palms, but Shepard placed his hand on the trigger slowly. Years had passed since he'd fired a weapon, but it was strange something so deadly could feel so comforting to wield. Taking his chances, he popped his head over to take a look at the ensuing combat. It was always best to know your foe.

What he saw chilled him to the bone. Standing in the centre of the hanger were five of the most savage creatures Shepard had ever had the displeasure of meeting. Last time, there had only been one and it had taken everything he had to take care of it. What were the odds of him taking one down now?

Amongst the hulking beasts were multiple wounded and dead, scattered mercilessly across the floor. One crewman was being held aloft, being punched repeatedly in the stomach by barrel-seized fists. He coughed blood, but his captor just laughed through a triangular mouth bristling with jagged teeth. The attackers towered above their prey at around nine foot tall. Each had four eyes that darted around the room noticing everything all at once. Two horns adorned their heads. The largest and most heavily armoured stood at the back, commanding his troops into defensive positions to take on the next wave of the Normandy's defenders.

Shepard dived back behind the workstation and looked over to Liara, who was also near-paralysed with fear. Soldiers stood firing around them, eager to take down their foe. They too were all scared but had no idea just how scared they should be.

Because no one, not even a squad of the best soldiers in the galaxy, could hold back the sheer powerhouse that is an angry Yahg.


	14. Lost

**Chapter 14 - Lost**

Dull thudding rang out in the shuttle bay, as the fight against the Yahg began. Their weapons were heavy and cumbersome, slung under their forearms and held tight with straps. Each gun about four times as big as Shepard's and the projectiles that were being spat out were terrifyingly large, about the size of Shepard's fist. They were made of solid metal like the ones used by Humans a couple of centuries ago rather than the particle-thin slices of metal fired at FTL speeds used in modern weaponry. The only conventional way to take down something so large, strong and armoured was to focus fire, but with so few soldiers fighting back and so many of the enemy, that might be hard to do.

In the back of the room, where the cargo bay doors usually reside, was the front of the enemy ship. True to what had been suspected, it had plowed through the Normandy's armour and disgorged the troops right into the heart of the ship. Thankfully, these five seemed to be the only Yahg boarding the ship as of yet. The Yahg soldiers didn't have their heads covered, which Shepard thought was odd. How did they survive if there was no oxygen down here? Then he remembered, EDI had said she would seal the ship's oxygen in if she could. It felt awful to say, but maybe it would have been better if her processing power had been lower, that way the attackers would have died straight away.

Shepard took in a deep breath before popping out of cover once again, gun at the ready. The finger on the trigger twitched as a target came into sight, automatically firing the gun. Predators weren't known for their recoil, but Shepard's felt like his arm was almost ripped from it's socket as the shot was let loose. He'd been out of combat for too long, but he had to admit... it was exhilarating. He fired again, at the closest Yahg that was hidden behind a large metal container, presumably full of supplies or survey equipment. The bullet missed and ricocheted off the surface of the metallic box with a small ping. Around him, soldiers' ducked and rose, letting loose bursts of assault fire, ducking once more. But every so often one would fall to the ground for good, a large hole in his head or chest.

This sort of cover wasn't designed to take impacts like this; it was just getting cover where you could but soon there would be nothing left of it. Eventually it would just be torn apart and become less then useless. Even now Shepard could hear the creaking metal being pummelled by the Yahg's weapons. Swinging himself up again, Shepard steadied himself and fired at the target's head. This time the shot was true, but his arm still took a pummeling. Screaming, the Yahg clutched his eye with his free hand as a green goo, which Shepard presumed was blood, began to pour down his face. Hiding once more, Shepard realised that the Yahg hadn't developed proper kinetic shields yet, relying on armour alone to protect them. But if you can hit them where they're uncovered...

Shouting, Shepard let loose another few shots, firing blindly. "Focus on the flesh, they don't have shields! They have no shields!" Hopefully, they'd get the message. Hearing a roar, louder than he had done before, Shepard looked out again across the battlefield that was the Normandy's floor. The Yahg he'd pegged in the eye had abandoned cover and furiously charged towards their position, drawing a hail of blue-tinted fire. But even that didn't seem to slow the beast down. By the time he was only a stride from their position, the beast was covered from head to toe in small wounds.

With a flash of blue light, Liara stood and unleashed a wave of biotic power, sending the charger flying backwards into the air. It thudded into the container that had been it's safe haven mere moments before and lay still, some soldiers still filling the dead creature with rounds just to make sure.

Some of the Normandy's defenders celebrated; the one closest to Liara patting her on the back. Shepard cursed bitterly. He knew they were still hopelessly outmatched and complacency could make anyone slip up.

"We're done done yet!" shouted the blonde haired Spectre, "keep your guard up. Hieb, McCloughlin, Lensen, move up to the container! Everyone cover fire!" Shepard had no idea who this guy was, but he was just about to suggest the same thing. They needed to get out of this area, and start retaking the hanger. He was even surprised to see that the two soldiers that had been called upon to move up did so without hesitation. With such a young face, it was hard to see how he'd earned this much respect from the crew. Even Jahest didn't bat an eyelid at being told what to do, as his last name was called, as the Salarian and two Humans sprinted to new cover.

arching his arm backwards, the leader of the Yahg threw a metal sphere the size of a basketball forward towards the three advancing Spectres. Liara charged forward, once again used her Biotics to blast the ball out of the way, and towards another pair of Yahg soldiers on the opposite side of the shuttle bay, hiding behind an overturned Mako. One dived, narrowly avoiding the orb, while the second wasn't so lucky. The ball smacked him straight in the chest, exploding violently on impact, splattering the Yahg who'd dived to the ground in his comrades green-blooded flesh.

Not happy with how the fight was going, the leader yelled out to his troops. First the gutteral roars entered Shepard's ear, but soon followed then a distorted and delayed translation of his speech followed quickly, as the unfamiliar language was processed by the translation software that was embedded in his head, connected directly to the eardrum. "Bring me the magic blue one. Alive!"

They wanted Liara, that was all Shepard knew. Her Biotics were powerful and from the term "magic," Shepard guessed the Yahg hadn't encountered something like that before. On the plus side, that meant no Biotics used against them. On the downside, they now wanted to take Liara with them. No way would that happen. Nothing would touch her; he would die first. Grabbing grenades from one of the fallen soldiers nearby, he assessed his situation. There were two Spectres up at the container with Liara, one had fallen to the ground with an arm missing. Next to him there was only one soldier still alive, and on the opposite console were three more. He hadn't even noticed himself leaving the cover and firing at the Yahg every so often. It was just like an instinct had kicked in to help him fight. Rubbing his sore shoulder, Shepard knew there were only three opponents left, one on the floor panicking, coated in his friend's guts, another that had moved up to join him behind the Mako and the leader who was still at the back.

"Cover me!" he shouted above the racket of gunfire. In one swift motion he flung a grenade at the Mako while vaulting over the bench before him. Charging across the battlefield had to be the stupidest thing he'd ever done, but he'd fight the Yahg to the centre of their own ship if it meant saving Liara and the rest of the crew upstairs. His sprint turned into a slide as the leader took aim at him and fired off what would have been a perfect body shot, if it wasn't for the fact Shepard was now on his knees. The bullet span through the air in seemingly slow motion, almost grazing Shepard's face before he made it to cover behind another container.

"Shepard!" he heard Liara scream from across the other side of the room, but he couldn't look at her. He couldn't look back, he had to focus on forcing these invaders from his ship. He'd spent too much time looking back over the past four decades; now was the time to move forward, even if that meant crazily running headlong into a group of angry aliens designed by nature specifically to fight.

With a satisfying bang, the grenade connected with the leader, causing him to stumble backwards, roaring in fury. His armour was bent and broke, his face scorched and burnt, the Yahg screamed and launched another metal bomb in Shepard's direction. Gathering his strength, Shepard unleashed the most powerful blast of biotic power he could muster. Biotics had never been his speciality, just another tool he'd learn to use in combat, plus he was out of practice, but what had he had much practice in over the years? Sitting around feeling sorry for yourself wasn't exactly a good combat technique. However right now he needed that part of his old repertoire to shine. Surprising himself, Shepard sent a blue blast of energy flying from his hands, but it wasn't strong enough to totally deflect the explosive orb back at it's owner. Shepard watched it arc through the air and smash into the Mako, which exploded violently. Shrapnel buzzed and whizzed through the air, but somehow the two Yahg hiding behind the Mako had survived and came barreling through the flames.

Stunned, Shepard looked at them, followed their direction and saw they were going directly for the crawling form of Liara on the other side of the room, a piece of the Mako sticking through her right thigh. Shepard'd heart plummeted as he saw the look of agony on her face. He'd caused that, through nothing but incompetence. It seemed Shepard had been lucky to survive the blast unharmed. Everyone else in the room apart from he and Jahest had been hit, even the Yahg commander was pulling out a huge chunk of metal from his bulging bicep.

"No!" Shepard cried. He'd tried to draw fire, he'd tried to get their attention, he'd done everything he could. Even his biotics hadn't been enough. Liara was now vulnerable and was only a target because of what made her powerful; her damn Biotic strength. Firing wildly with the pistol as he went, Shepard ran to intercept the pair, diving to tackle the closet one he could reach. The Yahg turned as Shepard's feet left the ground, his legs propelling him into the air ready to smash right into it's chest. It's body was covered in wounds and Shepard would probably be impaled on one of the numerous chunks of metal sticking out from the beast's flesh if he was unlucky. How the Yahg was still moving, he had no idea. With a roar, it batted Shepard away in a single swift movement. Flying through the air like the first Yahg Liara killed, Shepard could only watch as Jahest opened fire upon the pair, focusing on their now exposed legs as they charged towards him and his wounded commander. One toppled over, as his legs gave way but the other bashed Jahest away and grabbed the Asari from the floor. Her shriek of agony as the metal spike sticking through her leg was jostled around would have shattered glass.

Shepard landed in a heap, his arm snapping as he fell upon on it. "Fall back," came the rumbling order from the commander, who began to fire randomly across the room, guarding the entrance to his ship and covering his lone warrior's escape. Jahest stood up, dazed, and tried to keep up his stream of fire, unable to try and tackle the brutish warrior in melee combat like Shepard had tried to do. But now, he had to be careful of not hitting Liara, causing the Salarian to hesitate with every shot.

Liara screamed as blood poured from her leg. The Yahg had her held under the crook of his arm, and Shepard was helpless to stop the monstrosity stumbling back to his leader and into the ship. His eyes locking with hers, they screamed one another's names out in desperation as she was carried aboard. The little slice of Liara's mind that still rested in Shepard's began to ache as it was torn unwillingly from him. Pulling himself upright, Shepard sprinted as best as he could towards the slowly closing doors of the enemy vessel, ignoring the pain that shot through his arm on every pace. With a final dull thud, the thick metal doors shut, and the ship vibrated as it pulled out of the huge hole it had made in the side of the Normandy. Shepard fell limply to his knees.

"Liara! Liara!" he screamed until his voice broke and tears trickled down his face. He punched the floor, but his heart wasn't really in the self harm, so the impact didn't even hurt that much. Lifting his face up, he saw the outline the ship disappear in a flash as it entered FTL travel, leaving Shepard with a view of undisturbed space. It was a void that reflected just how he felt; empty. Liara was gone.


	15. Restraint

**Chapter 15 - Restraint**

Numbness spread throughout Shepard's body; both in his limbs and in his heart. It was adrenaline; pure, undiluted adrenaline that was the only thing that kept him going. He had to get Liara back, before any more harm was done, but there were things that needed to be done before that goal could be achieved. Making sure as many people could be saved as possible was the first priority, that was what he'd come down here to do in the first place, after all. He could worry about himself later. And then he consider rescuing Liara... As much as his heart felt like a piece of Mako was sticking through it, Shepard had to keep going. She would be saved, but he couldn't do it now, not in his state. Nothing would please him more to go upstairs and chase after her right away, but that wasn't the way forward. He had to do things right to avoid even more loss. Picking himself up from the floor, Shepard stumbled over to Jahest who was clutching his stomach were the Yahg who had taken Liara had hit him.

"We have to get her back, but we can't do it without the Normandy being fully operational. Go upstairs, tell everyone what happened and be ready to leave." Shepard's voice was weak, but determined. "Send medics down here immediately. I'm sure some of these soldier's can be saved."

Blinking rapidly, Jahest marched close, his face mere inches from Shepard's. His breathing was laboured, but he still managed to spit out a hateful remark. "The day I take orders from you is the day -." Jahest crumpled to the floor as Shepard headbutted him. He rubbed his forehead, where a sharp pain had sprang into life, joining the dull ache at the back of his head where the connection between Liara and himself had been severed. Shepard never really thought Salarians would have such hard skulls.

"Shut up," he murmured, stepping over Jahest's unconscious body and moving over to the elevator. There were times when he could accept people hating him for what he'd become, he'd felt that way himself afterall, but now was not one of those times. Remembering about his broken arm, Shepard opened the door with his good one. Now that the fight was over, the adrenaline was beginning to fade. But he couldn't afford to slip back into another depression or give in to pain He wiped away the tears and remembered he'd promised himself nothing would harm Liara, and he'd failed. But now he was going to get her back, whatever the cost.

"Co..Commander Shepard?" Shepard stopped suddenly, snapping out of his focussed trance, as he recognized the weak voice. Turning, he saw the blonde haired soldier from before. The breathing apparatus had been broken, leaving his mouth and nose open to breath in the air that remained on this level of the ship. It was lucky the whole had been sealed or this man would have died almost instantly. Shepard had no idea who this man was, and no idea why he seemed so familiar. There was nothing remarkable about him at all. Except now he had two hunks of metal protruding from his torso. Maybe it would have been better if the ship hadn't have been sealed after all. He'd managed to drag himself to a nearby wall and sit up, but that hadn't done anything to stop the pool of blood surrounding him from growing by the second.

"Soldier... I'm so sorry," Shepard sighed, running to the man's side.

"Hey, don't worry about it," the man coughed violently, blood spilling from his mouth and down his chin, "at least I got to fight alongside you, huh? The Great Commander Shepard!" Wincing, the man shuffled up against the wall again. Shepard placed his hand calmly on the man's arm. There was no sarcasm in his voice. It was strange to hear respect rather than hatred when people said his name. Jahest had been getting to him more than he'd realised.

"The honour's all mine, soldier." Speaking soft and low, Shepard hoped to calm the man in his dying moments. But the man seemed oddly happy. "What's your name?"

"Corporal Jason Verner, at your service. You knew my Dad." Coughing again, the man slid down the wall slightly as the strength evaporated from his body. That's when it hit Shepard just who this man was and why someone he had never met was so enamoured by him.

"So that's where you know me from. You're Conrad's son?" It was strange to think that Conrad Verner had survived the Reaper invasion, even stranger that he'd managed to get a woman to agree to have a child with him. Somehow Shepard had never really thought about those possibilities. The last he saw of the him, he was walking away with a girl after risking his own life to save Shepard. A wave of guilt washed over him. Conrad really had cared, and so had this man. Even in his last few seconds alive, he was happy to just be near his father's idol. "You fought well, and you have a great strategic mind."

Jason laughed, causing another fit of coughing. "Didn't do me much good did it? I suppose you're wondering what happened to Dad? Well, he passed a couple years back. Fell off a ladder and broke his neck."

Shepard slid against the wall and sat down, not caring about the blood soaking into his trousers. "What the hell was he doing?"

Again, Jason laughed, but weaker this time. It was strange to see a man dying but happy, and talking about his dead father in such a jovial way too. "He was cutting the hedge outside our house to look like the Normandy."

Shepard could imagine that, and laughed too, even though it was such a horrible thing to find funny. The truth was, once death is upon you, you really don't seem to care that much about it anymore. Somehow Jason just laughed that much harder as Shepard joined him. "Your father was a great man, just like you, but probably in different ways. Always bumbling around, but trying to do his best for people. He pretended to be a Spectre once and toured the galaxy in a suit of fake N7 armour! Then he set up an orphanage, and spent all his money on evacuating them to safety when the Reapers came. Then he saved my life. He'd be proud of you, Jason." Shepard looked over at his new friend, only to see his eyes glazed over and blood still trickling down his chin. Ignoring the pain in his head, Shepard smashed it into the wall behind him in frustration. There were so many people who idolised him still, even after all this time and after all the failures, but no longer would he let them down.

Bodies covered the floor. Some spread around the hole where the Yahg had come through, most near the elevator doors. The sight would have made anyone other than a soldier sick. Shepard was used to death, and sacrifice. But Liara hadn't done either of those things. She wasn't even dead, as far as Shepard knew. At least then he could grieve for her. But now, no one could even guess what pain she would be put through.

It took a lot of strength to stand up and get back to the elevator, but Shepard managed it. The door to the CIC opened to the sound of dozens of pistols being armed and pointing in his face. When the crew saw him, covered in blood, some cheered, others screamed. Most wanted to know what was going on. Quickly explaining the situation, Shepard then ordered the crew to recover the dead and injured from the shuttle bay. Without question they followed his orders and the crowded CIC filtered out amongst the ship. Shepard sat down on the closest chair he could find and breathed deeply, before putting his head in his hands. A bolt of pain ran down his arm, causing him to squeal loudly, drawing a few looks.

"Let me take a look at that," a gentle voice said from nearby. It was Lucille, carrying a first aid kit with her. She knelt close by and examined his let arm. "Is it broken? Oh dear. Well, I'll fix this up soon enough. First a painkiller, then a bit of this and a bit of that..." She began to drone on, mainly thinking out loud about what could be done to help Shepard. It eased his mind and body just to listen to her voice and after a while he wasn't in any pain at all. "All done, Commander. We managed to repair the engines and empty the eezo core during your fight."

Shepard sighed bitterly. "That's what you did? While men were fighting and dying down there, you messed around with the ship?" How could she, the entire crew, be so cold hearted?

Lucille continued, unphased by Shepard's tone. "I mean, we were stuck up here what could we do? Anyway, we're ready to fly as soon as you say so!" It did make sense, Shepard had to admit. He was just in a bad mood, but overall that was good news. "I heard what you said about Dr. T'Soni. We could try and follow the ship if you wanted?"

Grimacing, Shepard replied. "You might have a problem there. I sort of... lost my temper with Jahest. He's... incapacitated. Plus, he was second-in-command, right?"

"We both know who outranks who between you two. Everyone will listen to you." Lucille twirled one of her brown bangs through her fingertips, "Plus, no one really likes Jahest anyway. If he refuses to fly the ship, then I'll just do it instead."

"What can't you do?" Shepard laughed. Lucille was in charge of coordinating the crew, she could do pretty damn good first aid and fly a highly sophisticated ship?

Placing a finger on her shimmering, ruby lips, Lucille considered the question. It took her a while to answer. "Dance. Yeah, dance, bad dancer. Nor can I make pasta! That's about it." She flashed her brilliant smile and set off towards the front of the ship and the cockpit. Shepard analysed his arm, which was bandaged tightly. It didn't hurt so much as it just annoyed him. It'd take a while for it to heal fully, but for now this was good enough. He'd just fight off an army of Yahg with one arm instead of two.

Following Lucille's path, Shepard made his way to the cockpit too. But the journey seemed much longer than he expected. It must have been only twenty minutes ago when he was last walking this same hallway with Liara. Holding back the heartbreak, Shepard carried on. No. He couldn't break down. It was strange that even with the carnage in the bottom deck, everything up here was the same. Shepard even doubted that the bottle of brandy they'd been drinking last night would have even fallen from the table.

"Miss Reynolds, please tell me you can track where the ship went? I need some good news."

Lucille had placed herself in the leather embrace of the pilot's chair. Even though Shepard had never seen her do anything like this, she seemed right at home. Tapping instruments, even asking EDI a few simple questions now and then. Shepard doubted she'd be better than Joker, or even Jahest, at flying, but she'd be a lot less irksome than the latter.

Eventually she finished and span the chair around, "Yup, just as I suspected. The moon we went past, it's gone back there. If we stay here, they'll send more ships and troops to blow us out of the water. Or the space. Whichever."

Grimacing, Shepard looked at the data chart that Lucille had brought up. "Well that shouldn't matter, since we're going to meet them."

"That might not be a good idea, Commander." Lucille was sympathetic and gentle, but that did nothing to stop Shepard's anger flaring at her words. "I did some more analysis of the ship, and we're far from combat ready. Plus, from what you said, our ground vehicle isn't in the best shape anymore. That'd mean dropping the remaining..." She counted on her fingers, her tongue poking out and eyes looking upwards as she concentrated. "...sixteen Spectres, including you, down onto a hostile base that we only have a vague idea about."

"So what, you're suggesting we just abandon Liara?!" Shepard was angry, he needed to save her. But the tiny portion of his brain that was not consumed by fury and sadness knew that Lucille was right. This only made him more furious. "No! No, I can't do that. I can't leave her!"

Lucille stood elegantly from her chair and moved closer to Shepard, hugging him tightly around the neck and shoulders. She was much shorter than he was, only on her tiptoes was she able to reach his height. Even though he made no effort to hug her back, she kept up the hug and whispered comforting thoughts into his ear. "We'll save her, we will. But right now, going in there would be suicide. To save her, we need to prepare and come back stronger than ever. They won't kill her, you said yourself they wanted her alive. We'll save her, we'll save her, don't worry..."

Unable to keep up the anger, Shepard staggered as the weariness of combat and melancholy overtook him, but Lucille held him firmly upright. Sobbing, he hugged her back. It wasn't like the embraces he'd shared with Miranda years ago, or even the ones with Liara that very morning. It was contact between friends, showing that he could rely on her, and she would stay with him no matter what. Shepard was sure if he'd pushed his argument further, she would have gone on that suicide mission with him.

"Make the choice, Commander." Lucille withdrew and smiled sadly at him. "I said it would be a bad idea to go after her now, but that doesn't mean it's not an option."

Slowly, Shepard shook his head. "No. I need to protect people, not send them wildly to their deaths." Staring out the windows into the endless space that Liara was now lost in, he balled his fists tightly. "I will come back for her, I swear. Now take us home, Reynolds."

With her signature broad grin, Lucille leaped to attention, giving the most over exaggerated salute Shepard had ever seen. It almost made him burst out into laughter. "Aye, aye, Commander!" He walked away as she took her place at the pilot's terminal once more. Fatigue overwhelming him, Shepard forced himself back into the CIC. He had one last job to do; take care of the brave men and women he had fought alongside and brief everyone on what was going on. There would be a lot of protest against a retreat, mainly from a certain mouthy Salarian, but eventually they would understand, just as Shepard had.

It took a while to get through the CIC, as Shepard stopped to talk through the plan with every member of the crew. Most reacted as he had expected, but once they realised the stupidity of flying into unknown, enemy territory with a beaten up ship and a beaten up crew everyone agreed. They would save her. Often, Shepard was asked if he was okay. How's your arm? How're you handling without Liara? Was it really the Yahg? Fine, fine and yes were the answers most of the time. The Yahg had been mostly forgotten about, but were sort of an urban legend. Just under half the crew hadn't even heard of them before. More exhausted than ever, Shepard finally went down to the medical bay for the second part of his new mission.

Of the Spectres that had gone down, only four had come back alive. Two of which were Jahest and Shepard. The other two were in intensive care, having been carried up to the medical bay on stretchers. One was missing a leg that had been blown clean off by a Yahg bullet, and the other had a broken spine that had been severed by a piece of the Mako. After inquiring about their conditions, Shepard was shooed away by the doctor and other medically trained staff aboard.

The last part of Shepard's journey took him down to Engineering, into the port side cargo bay. Here, the bodies of the fallen had been cleaned, wrapped in white cloth and left upon hastily erected tables. They would get a good burial when they arrived home, Shepard would make sure of it. He placed his good arm down on the end of the table that Jason Verner's body rested on. Shepard was tired, but at least he wasn't dead. And the Normandy hadn't been destroyed.

"I have to thank you all," Shepard spoke aloud to the crowd of the dead, his voice shaking with tiredness. Some would have called him insane, but Shepard didn't care. Even the dead... no, especially the dead, deserved to hear his plan. "You all fought bravely against an unknown enemy. Without you, countless people would have died. I would have died. I'm sorry if my recklessness and inability got you killed. I know that the Mako explosion was my fault just as much as it was the Yahg's. I'm sorry... But you won't die in vain. We will come back, and in your name we will fight. We will fight hard and take to pieces the bastards that killed you. I fought for too long, too hard and lost too much to let the peace that we have in the galaxy now to be killed too." Tears were absent from him now. It was not a time to mourn or to feel grief. It was a time for revenge. "Even if it takes my life, I will avenge every single one of you. I will take your sacrifice and turn it into the fuel that drives me ever forward. People have called me a hero, but you are the heroes of war; the fallen. Thank you... for everything."

With a swoosh, the door opened and Shepard left the room, more determined than ever. He would save Liara. He would avenge those men. But most of all, Shepard would use their strength to rebuild himself into something far greater than he'd ever been before. Not only them, but the strength of everyone he had ever failed and everyone who had ever died fighting for what was right and to protect the ones they loved. Shepard laughed bitterly as the elevator rose back to the Captain's Quarters. He would need it.


	16. Help

**Chapter 16 - Help**

"I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation, Shepard."

Fuck you, were the only words Shepard's mind could come up with. Of course he "understood the gravity of the situation." He'd been there, he'd lived it. Liara was gone, and he wanted help getting her back. What about that was difficult for the Council understand? Holding back his anger, Shepard clenched his fist and gathered his composure.

"I'm asking for help to rescue my friend. Liara's important, not just to me, but to you too. She's smart, she knows how to run things, hell she's probably done more work for this glaxy than all of you combined. How many times have you turned to her for advice? Or funds? Even the Shadow Broker knew how influential she was!"

"That's not the issue we're debating here." It was the Turian Councillor who had taken the lead in opposing Shepard's requests. He'd asked for help repairing the Normandy quickly, some more Spectre aid and a little gift for the Yahg when they got there. They'd be resistant, he knew, but never would Shepard have guessed they'd outright deny his ideas. "First, you steal the Normandy." Shepard began to protest, but the Turian held up his hand to silence him. "Second, the Normandy is almost destroyed. Third, you lose the Commanding Officer. And Fourth you knock out the second-on-command so he can't perform his duties. Even if we did agree to your demands of finding Dr. T'Soni, why would we ever trust you with leading the operation?"

Shepard bit his lip in frustration and averted his eyes. It was a fair point. He'd given a truthful report to the Council as soon as they'd returned to Sol. Almost unanimously they decided losing Liara was his fault in the first place, which was partially true. Okay, mostly true. The Mako explosion hadn't exactly been the plan...

"Because I have the least to lose, and I'll give everything to get her back." Again, Shepard thought, they were honest words. Either they'd take them the wrong way, or...

"That's exactly what we're afraid of! You think we want more losses just so you can feel like you have a purpose again? So you can inflate your ego a bit?" So they took it the wrong way. Great. Shepard cringed as his broken arm knocked slightly against the railing. It had been three days since Liara had been taken and he'd broken it, and even with modern medicine it still hurt like hell. "Seems like I hit a touchy subject?" The Turian laughed as he misunderstood Shepard's facial expression. Some of the others joined in. Too late it take it back now.

"It's funny how when you needed me, you were nice and sympathetic. Look at you, all of you. Even after everything, you still haven't changed. I was willing to give everything I had, willing to die for a second time, to save... this?" It wasn't anger that filled Shepard anymore, he soon realised. It wasn't shock or surprise. It was just a mix of acceptance and disappointment. Because he'd somehow expected this, but hoped that it wouldn't happen. The utopia of a unified galaxy? Pah, that's what they'd said before. Now there were just more politicians who could get away with using people like tools. "I don't need this..."

Turning briskly, Shepard marched from the Council Chambers. The last time he'd been here, Shepard had been sweating like crazy and was half insane with paranoia. But the new Shepard was different, he couldn't afford to take the Council's crap anymore. He had to focus on rescuing Liara, by any means necessary. And he'd planned for this...

His journey wasn't long in theory, but he had to make sure he wasn't being followed. Ever since he'd gotten back, Shepard had this feeling that he was being watched. Not in the crazy way he had before, but in the "I'm a Soldier, I know what's going on," sort of way. It didn't scare him, it just meant he had to be careful. Three rapid-transit rides and a quick double-back walk later, Shepard arrived at his destination on one of the Citadel's many Wards.. Vibrations of loud, upbeat music could be felt through the floor even from outside the club. Purple and blue neon lights curled around one another and glowed seductively, but the bright day light made it difficult to make out the words.

A huge queue trailed from the entrance, filled with all manner of excited, eccentric patrons. None of them paid any heed to Shepard, until he walked straight past them all and up to the three bouncers on the door. Two burly Krogans stood on either side of the entrance, arms folded and their natural glare keeping the potential party-goers in order without even having to move. A Turian controlled those who entered and those who didn't. Shepard guessed that everything from clothing brands and attractiveness to status and influence would be taken into account. But he had an appointment to get to.

"Hey!" Yelled an Asari sluggishly, who's only clothing was a spiralling strip of cloth that twirled around her body, showing enough slices of skin to be considered sexy but not enough to be slutty. Her eyes were unfocused and hazy, suggesting she was either already drunk or on some form of drug. Down on Earth, it was only around two in the afternoon. "You can't just push in!"

Her shouting alerted others, who all began to hurl abuse and insults at Shepard as he calmly walked past and got to the front. The Turian laughed, and the two Krogan stepped forward from leaning on the wall. "And what do you want, Human?" The Turian had the signature gravelly voice of the species, but it also seemed slightly oily and slimy; a voice that Shepard couldn't put in the same sentence as "trustworthy."

"Shepard. I'm expected." A Human in a bright blue suit shouted something about Shepard's mother, but one of the Krogan stomped forward and threw the man to the back of the queue.

"Yeah, yeah, you are. Come on in." The Turian let Shepard pass, then shouted to the crowd. "We're full for now, feel free to wait." Some of the people, including the blue-suited man grumbled and left, but the rest stayed put. This was obviously a highly popular place to be.

Walking through the doors, Shepard was hit with a wave of blasting, pulsing sound and dizziness almost overwhelmed him as his nostrils were assaulted by the strong smell of sweat and alcohol. The air was heavy, stale and almost pitch black. Illuminating the club was a series of strobe lights above a mass of gyrating bodies of every race, and some mood lighting ran along the floor.

"She's up there," The Turian pointed towards a small booth a hundred metres above the mass of dancing flesh. "You'll want to walk down to the end, turn left and head up the stairs. Take this, flash it to the guards and they'll let you through." Handing Shepard a small blue card, covered in white lettering in the same pattern as the sign outside, the Turian moved over to a nearby waitress and ordered a drink.

It took a while to reach the staircase. The club was packed, filled to the brim, and Shepard had a hard time pushing his way through the crowds. When he finally got there, he stopped to breathe. Beads of sweat ran down the side of his face and his throat was parched. It was probably a marketing thing to get people to drink more. Following the instructions that he'd been given, Shepard presented the card to yet more Krogan bodyguards. It seemed their race hadn't changed their career aspirations much these past few decades. They too let him pass. Now all that was left was a couple of hundred steps to walk up. Great. Shepard had never envisioned it would be this hard to talk to one Asari...

"Welcome to Omega, Shepard." The calm voice greeted him as Shepard reached the end of his climb. "The rules haven't changed." Sat with one leg resting on the other, her distinctive facial tattoos and scowling demeanor also unchanged, was Aria T'Loak. If Liara represented the curiosity, intrigue and innocent beauty of her species, then Aria embodied the dark, strong and lustful aspects. She was just as attractive, but in a different way; a dangerous way that Shepard didn't entirely like.

"You promised me you'd help me get Liara back, that's all I'm here for." Shepard kept his voice firm. Aria had a way of twisting conversations to suit her, so the best way was to stay focussed. The air was much cooler up here, it seemed Aria had the sense to install some form of air conditioning in the area she would spend a lot of time.

"Hmm, take a seat." Aria skirted around the issue, but waved her hand at one of the many empty spots around her. Just like in the old Omega, Aria's personal space was filled with even tougher looking bodyguards, a very select few VIP's and expensive leather couches. "What have you been doing, Shepard? We spoke briefly, but we never got to have a good... heart to heart." She spoke knowing her evasiveness would annoy Shepard. Was the amount of credits she would get from this deal not enough? Shepard took the seat regardless.

"Just tell me how you can help me. Don't mess me around." Shepard said coolly. Aria laughed and waved over a Turian waiter, whispered in his ear, then turned to Shepard.

"Oh, you're no fun anymore. At least let me try to mess you around." Aria stood and looked out at the club below her. Her voice dropped quieter, so that only Shepard could hear. "Things have changed for me, Shepard. I used to rule everything I could see. Now I still rule everything that I can see, but only because I had all the windows filled in. The new Omega was fun for a while, but how far can I advance trapped in a bureaucratic shit hole like this?"

"I guess exotic dancers and loud music can't sustain you forever." Initially, it had been sarcastic, but Shepard quickly realised his response was much more profound than he realised. Aria loved the power she had on Omega, it made her feel alive. Now she'd been trapped in a place she didn't want to be; a shoddy imitation of her old life.

"No, they can't. I do actually want to help you," she continued, "But not for credits, for my own gain or so I can get favours from you later down the line. I just want some excitement, a challenge I can really sink my teeth into." Aria sighed and turned away from the party, "You can give me that. I can help you steal the Normandy."

Bingo; she'd finally said it. This is what he needed. If the Council wouldn't give him access tot he Normandy, he'd have to take it by force. "Good," he smiled, "do you have all of this planned, or is that up to me? All I really asked for was man power."

Aria chuckled darkly and took a seat next to Shepard. "Oh, do I have a plan or do I have a plan? I thought I'd get a little bit creative and ask around for help. You'd be surprised at the response I got when I dropped your name." Shepard scowled as Aria slid closer and ran a delicate finger down his arm flirtatiously. "But I have an extra condition. Stealing the Normandy isn't enough... excitement."

Jumping up, Shepard began to protest wildly until Aria cackled and doubled over in laughter. "What? Why are you laughing, Aria? You were the one to suggest, to suggest... that." Shepard was lost for words. He'd never betray Liara like that.

"Oh, Shepard. you are so easy to manipulate. One tiny little suggestion and you go crazy." Finally, she calmed down and righted herself on the seat, "No, no, no, the excitement I meant was, well... I want to come with you. To rescue your friend." Shepard was almost as surprised by this revelation as he had been before.

"You want to help save someone? That really doesn't seem like you." Shepard considered the proposal. Aria T'Loak and helpfulness didn't really go in the same sentence, but she was powerful, he'd seen her skills first hand. It's not like he'd have a team of Spectres on hand this time around. She'd be useful. He couldn't let her know he thought that though, she'd never shut up about it. "Fine, if that's your condition. Your idea, not mine."

"Good, now that that is settled, follow me." Aria strutted from the room, purposefully placing one foot in front of the other. She was so confident, it was unreal. The phrase "she acts like she owned the place," came to Shepard's mind. Then he realised she did. He followed her through a door and down a staircase just as tiresome and long as the one he'd gone up. It got colder as they spiralled downwards and eventually they burst out into a huge warehouse, standing on a small, railed balcony with even more stairs leading down to the floor. The two huge doors were open to the outside, letting the cool air of the Citadel Wards inside.

Shepard stopped immediately as he saw the small crowd assembled before him. A sea of red and black armour milled around below. Every remaining Spectre that had been aboard the Normandy, at least those who weren't still in intensive care, were gathered before him. Shepard had a knack for remembering the faces of those he fought with. "I told you I had a plan." Aria chuckled cockily, "Apparently your name is worth more than credits with these people. Goddess knows why..."

* * *

NOTE: I'm very sorry for the wait, everyone. I've had a LOT of work to do at University and it's nearing Christmas, so the next few weeks might be kind of slow. Thank you all for reading so far! 3


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